


Vampire Love

by Jondiplier



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bonding, Breeding, Comfort, Cunnilingus, Falling In Love, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Intersex, Intersex Pregnancy, Love, M/M, Mates, Mating, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Morning Sickness, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pack Bonding, Pack Dynamics, Panic Attacks, Penis In Vagina Sex, Pregnancy, Retirement, Threesome - M/M/M, Vampire Sex, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:15:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27711905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jondiplier/pseuds/Jondiplier
Summary: Geralt falls into a two-for-one deal with horny, devoted vampires. Originally having been with Regis, Geralt comes to terms with accepting that maybe having two partners isn't so bad when they're so big and loving.Vampires are highly complex creatures, Geralt comes to find out, who have mating cycles yearly. With Dettlaff and Regis being bonded, Geralt adds another layer to the tasty sandwich the three make.(°♡°)Trying to update every other Wednesday as of February 3rd, 2021!Kudos and comments are highly appreciated! Even a "ajdnrirns" is more than enough to put a smile on my face and get me writing! More content? More comments!!! :D
Relationships: Dettlaff van der Eretein/Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy, Dettlaff van der Eretein/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy
Comments: 50
Kudos: 112





	1. Regis' Heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regis' first heat with Geralt as a partner.
> 
> Unreliable POVs!!
> 
> Enjoy ;D

It starts when Geralt goes to bed; very light and a little irritating, grating just under his skin. Regis is restless, pacing the small kitchen and dining room in Corvo Bianco. His legs burn from the movements and there's a deep ache resonating from his lower abdomen down into his thighs. He always hates the beginning of his estrus. 

Dettlaff had left a while ago to forage supplies for him and Geralt, what he needs exactly Regis does not know. Granted, he hasn't shared his estrus with someone who isn't a vampire, because why would any other creature understand?

Regis did protest, wanting Dettlaff here in case something goes wrong or Geralt doesn't want to engage with him. His anxiety covers the reality of their and Geralt's relationship, how they can be open and not receive judgement. In the end, the larger vampire leaves, telling Regis to calm his worries with tea or a book. 

And so, he does. He finds a book on insects and busies himself with that, pushing his anxious thoughts to the back of his mind and focuses on his reading.

(°♡°)

Early morning comes and he finds himself grinding against the armrest of a chair; his book long forgotten on the floor. In a better state of mind, he'd fuss at how the book landed, pages folding under the weight of its backing. 

The wooden knob of the chair proves sufficient for now, pleasing him when his own fingers couldn't. Polished, solid, and perfectly round for his sopping cunt. His cock isn't even hard at this point, his body deeming his vulva the place to send his boiling blood.

With one hand covering his mouth and the other steadying himself, he ruts down.

His labia engorged and slick, achingly empty and wanting someone to just take him. He fantasizes about it, of Dettlaff or Geralt finding him pleasuring himself with the chair. How scandalous it is, primal and dirty. It makes heat soar through his veins as he chokes on a moan. 

He's whimpering into his hand, eyes barely open as he rubs himself off like the animal he is. An unsatisfying orgasm shakes him off his perch, weakened limbs causing him to collapse onto the plush cushions.

He takes a minute to breathe, trying to calm himself but finds his hand already on his mount, rubbing his clit with quick circles. 

_"Gah,_ damnit." Regis curses, spreading his legs over the sides of the chair and sinks into his seat. This is even more pathetic, he whines, unable to keep his hands off himself. 

It's frustrating. It's never enough, even when his labia starts to feel raw and sore from his assault. 

He works another horrible orgasm out of himself and forces himself to stand on wobbly legs. He needs to find Geralt, his mate. His brain is empty and his cunt is guiding him, legs going where Geralt's scent is the strongest. 

Regis is agitated as he crawls into their bed, already beyond being patient, having been waiting until his witcher wakes. He vowed to himself he'd wait, wanting Geralt rested and ready. His horny needs have other ideas. 

Shaking the bulky body beneath him, Regis huffs as Geralt stirs, mumbling in his half asleep state as he turns to face Regis. He gives the vampire a questioning look, confused with a foggy brain.

"I need you." Regis whines, grumpy that his mate hasn't taken care of him yet. 

Geralt, to his credit, barely knows vampire etiquette beyond what he was told, which wasn't much. Dettlaff really sucks at explaining things and said he'll help where he can, but to let Regis take the reins since he knows what he wants. Dettlaff also warned him that he's a lot to handle.

It wasn't much to go off of, but Regis was too busy brooding and being off to tell him anything. He loves them to death but for once they were very vague. 

He can tell Regis is upset just from the look of him, so he sits up and pulls him into his arms, scenting him with a hum. His nostrils fill with the smell of arousal and the musky scent of his cunt. Geralt notes how it's much more potent than it has ever been.

"Geralt." Regis protests and wiggles in his grip. "I've been waiting. Please," he whines, needing friction and more now that he takes in lungfuls of Geralt's scent. 

"How do you want me?" Geralt asks, his cock already rising in interest. Regis doesn't answer as he slips out of his arms and shimmies his pants off. It's more erratic than anything and Geralt helps by lifting his hips for Regis, then starts stripping down into the nude just as Regis flips onto his stomach. 

The witcher groans at the sight of Regis' eagerness. His vulva is beautifully flush and his slick wets the insides of the vampire's thighs, rubbing his thin legs together in anticipation. 

"Geralt-" he starts, pathetically aroused and needy. 

"I'm here." Geralt murmurs, coming up behind him and pulling him closer by his hips. It startles an animalistic sound out of his mate, Regis' hands digging into the bedding as he pushes his behind up against Geralt's prick.

"Love seeing you like this," Geralt mutters, rubbing his thumbs into his pale skin as he wets his cock. 

"Show me how much you love it." Regis breathes, spreading his legs and arching his back low. 

Geralt grins and grabs his cock, rubbing it through the slick mess Regis makes. He slowly presses it inside Regis, enjoying how the man beneath him shudders and opens up around him. 

"Yes, _oh_ -" Regis gasps, arching his back even lower as he settles his chest to the bed. His cunt throbs as Geralt fills him up, almost snug and deliciously thick. "Fuck," he whimpers, tossing his face into a pillow as Geralt's bony hips meet his ass with a soft huff of breath. 

Geralt takes a moment to breathe and calm himself. His vampire isn't patient, keening and trying to rut back against Geralt with weak rolls of his hips. 

"Geralt," Regis pleads, lost to the demands of his body. His skin is feverish, flushing brightly in the low lighting of their bedroom. 

With a curse and a bruising grip, Geralt starts moving his hips. It's deep and achingly slow, so when Regis starts to demand more along his own jerky movements, Geralt gives. 

"Y-es, _yes_ , oh-!" Regis cries, his hands moving to grasp the pillow beside his head. He sobs with his moans, finally getting what he needs. He's _happy_ , euphoric and his head is empty besides the feeling of relief. 

Geralt feels a swell of pride at how good he's making Regis feel. Rarely does either of his vampires let him explore their vulvas. Dettlaff being more reserved than Regis, but both firm in keeping that part off limits from his cock and fingers. 

He doesn't know exactly why, but he respects their boundaries. 

One of Regis' clawed hands reaches for his side, and Geralt takes it in his own hand, squeezing gently in comfort. Within seconds he's reminded of how strong Regis is as he pulls Geralt down and lands on the vampire's back with an oomph. 

"Regis-" Geralt squawks, but is cut off as he's pushed onto his back. He collapses at the foot of the bed, panting heavily and cock straining at its loss of warmth. 

Regis is quick to crawl into his lap, breathing rapidly and flushing from the neck down. He moans brokenly as he impales himself on Geralt's cock, hips stuttering as he starts to bounce. 

Geralt cries out in shock and pleasure, body catching up before his brain as his own hips match Regis' frantic movements.

Regis is mumbling to himself, eyes closed tightly as he rocks with fervent jerks of his hips and thighs. Geralt leans up onto his elbows to hear him better, worrying a little over how wrecked he looks. 

"Geralt." Regis' eyes fly open when he feels Geralt's breath against his face. His eyes shine with unshed tears. "I need you to come. I need it so bad. Please," he sobs, now bouncing on his cock with his hands steadying on his shoulders.

Geralt falls back against the sheets, soaked with sweat and other fluids as he pulls Regis down onto his chest. He plants his feet, shifting until he could start pounding his hips into the willing body above him. His thick arms wrap around Regis' waist and shoulders, holding him close as he edges himself towards his orgasm. 

"Oh, Geralt, please please," Regis chants, his arms pinned between himself and Geralt's chest. He wiggles and tries to find leverage, but he can't; he's helpless to Geralt's assault, crying and moaning until finally, Geralt comes with a shout. He presses up deeply into Regis, emptying inside of him just as Regis begged him to. 

Regis comes at the first feeling of ejaculate flooding him, his cunt spasming and body going lax as his mind and body becomes sated. 

He lets out a breathy little sigh as his body comes down, thighs shaking as his pussy continues to spasm around Geralt. 

Geralt holds him close, panting heavily as Regis' body coaxes little jerks of his cock. It becomes too much, and by the time he tries to pull out, Regis is a dead weight, already asleep. 

Geralt gives a throaty sigh and lets his head drop against the mattress, too far from the head of the bed to grab a pillow.

He works his feet, inching it closer and closer until the door opens slowly, Dettlaff popping in with a little tray of water and food. 

"How long have you been here?" Geralt asks, giving up on the pillow and looking up at Dettlaff. 

"Long enough to make sure you two were okay." Dettlaff shrugs, a small grin on his face at the sight of his two mates. "How was it?"

"A lot." Geralt sighs. "But good, great actually." He says, and if he wasn't so spent he'd pay more attention to the little throb his cock gives at the thought of what just happened. 

Dettlaff just hums with a fond smile. It's a bit different than what Geralt would expect, especially while he's sweaty and stinking of sex. 

Dettlaff doesn't seem to mind the scent, and now that Geralt's paying attention, he can see the way his nostrils flare wide with every deep inhale. Kinky bastard, Geralt smirks. 

Dettlaff helps Geralt with moving Regis, situating him the right way on the bed. The larger vampire takes care in tucking Regis in, and Geralt watches with a little bit of fascination, kind of wanting that treatment. Maybe one day. 

"You should eat and sleep." Dettlaff says, handing him the tray of goodies. Some of this stuff he knows they didn't have in the kitchen, like the pieces of dark chocolate and fresh cherries. 

"Can do. Thanks." Geralt murmurs tiredly, smiling lazily up at Dettlaff. He picks at the tray, downing the water and happily feeds himself. 

Soon, Geralt is tucked under the blankets with gentle hands, fast asleep. 

The younger vampire looks over his two loves, both dead to the world and slumbering. His heart flutters in his chest, completely enamored by his two unique and understandable mates. 

He sits in the chair by the desk and opens his sketchbook, wanting to capture the moment and cherish the feeling of warmth and contentment. A little sharpening of his pencil and he's off on sketching their blanketed silhouettes. 

(°♡°)

In the early hours of the morning after taking care of Regis' feisty needs, Dettlaff and Geralt lounge out in the living room, sipping on some warm tea Geralt brewed to rehydrate. 

The two of them are quiet, a pinch of tension in the air. 

"How long does this usually last?" Geralt asks softly, looking over at Dettlaff. The candles lighting the room flicker and wave, dancing in the dark around them.

"With Regis, normally a day or two." Dettlaff says not looking up at him, staring down into the mug in his large hands. "It may even be shorter with you here." He says, his baritone voice sending shivers through Geralt. 

Geralt always enjoys hearing him talk. Deep and rich, making his words pleasant to his ears. Geralt gives a nod and a hum, watching as Dettlaff shifts his shoulders and straightens himself from being curled in the chair. 

"We're pack creatures," Dettlaff starts, icy eyes catching Geralt's gleaming ones. "We crave to have our own with us in our most vulnerable state. Just him and I… we're lonely." 

Geralt understands more than Dettlaff thinks he does, his own gaze softening as his hands are warmed by the mug of tea. 

"I am not good with people, Geralt, but I will try. Regis adores you, and I do not want to get in the way of his happiness." 

A pause, his eyes dart away.

"Was kinda worried I was doing that with you two." Geralt says quietly, and Dettlaff tilts his head at him, curious. "You guys have that blood bond thing, I don't want to get in the way of that."

Dettlaff's lips curl a little at that, just barely, but Geralt sees it in the low lighting. "You won't." The vampire reassures. "We can make room for another."

"'We'?" Geralt asks, his own lips quirking. "Didn't know this was a two for one kinda thing. Not that I'm complaining."

"Mhm." A nod and Dettlaff's long, muscled body curls up in the chair again, chin resting on his knees and arms wrapping around his legs, now fully watching Geralt in his new position. "Me neither. I was hoping you'd be interested. I don't mind our earlier agreement, but…" 

Their early agreement, both being Regis' partners, and on good terms with the other. "But?" 

"I find you interesting, and am starting to understand Regis' decision in bonding with you." He says, his eyes shine with excitement. "Plus, the benefits of all three of us bonding outweigh the negatives."

"And those are?" Geralt grins, hiding his face behind his mug. He can feel his heart starting to race and his chest flutter at how intensely Dettlaff looks at him. 

"We won't be lonely, and have our own mated pack. We would be closer, more intimate than our current stance." He says. "And I like you, and your many likeable traits. Your wit, passion, and loyalty to name a few." Dettlaff hums, looking Geralt over with a small grin. "Your acceptance of Regis and I. Not many I know have so easily come to terms with a being like myself. It's relieving as much as it is attractive."

Geralt feels his grin stretching and a warmth bubbling in his chest. He knows that if Dettlaff is anything like Regis, he will be open in his compliments and fondness, and it's something Geralt has learned to love and appreciate. 

"Thank you." Geralt murmurs when Dettlaff looks at him expectantly. He's giddy and warm now.

They bask in the nice atmosphere and in each other's presence before Regis comes out of their room, demanding attention. 

It was nice while it lasted. 


	2. Ideas and Discoveries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Learning more about each other! Just a filler but it's tasty.
> 
> Talk of expanding their little family! Spring fever if you know what I mean 😉

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha! A chapter sooner than I planned since I've been writing like crazy! 
> 
> Thanks to mackallackattack for their support! And to a few other friends who helped me form this idea into an actual story!

In the few years that have passed since the first time Geralt shares a cycle with his vampire mates, he's learned a few things.

One, he found that Dettlaff prefers to service himself to help Regis' heat instead of having his own. When Geralt picks up on that and asks, he finds it's a bit more complicated than he thought. 

"Ah, Dettlaff is a lot more fertile than me." Regis says as he butters up a piece of warm bread. They're sitting at their dinner table, having just made baked beans for dinner. "It's strange but makes sense, he's the strongest high vampire that we know of, so his body is more apt to produce strong and healthy offspring." Regis says and the side of his lip raises in a smirk. 

Geralt looks over at Dettlaff who has a hand covering his face. "Didn't have to make it sound so clinical." He mumbles as he stirs his food. His portion is much smaller since he's not nearly as much as a foodie compared to Regis. They don't _need_ to eat, but Regis likes to, and his food is delicious so Geralt's not complaining. 

Regis' chortle is muffled by a mouthful of bread, his dark eyes fondly looking at both his mates. "My apologies. I figured clinical would've been best while we're at the dinner table." He shrugs and Geralt snorts. 

"Thanks for that." Dettlaff rolls his eyes, something Geralt had started to pick up on once their relationship grew closer. He starts to eat, a fine rosy blush on his sculptured face.

Regis' smile is cheeky now, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He keeps his mouth closed, obviously planning something. 

(°♡°)

The next thing he learns is about himself; that he has a thing for voyeurism, entranced by the scene of passion before him when Dettlaff took charge during Regis' cycle. 

Regis is a fiery thing when his estrus takes over. Geralt, in all honesty, can't keep up. He's definitely better than a human partner would be, and he's been told his whole adult life how his refractory period is remarkable, and how his stamina is phenomenal. 

Then he met Regis. 

And _then_ he met Dettlaff. 

The absolute power and strength coming from him makes Geralt thankful he'll never have to come face to face with his bad side. 

He had sat watching the two of them fuck like animals on their bed, snarling and growling and clawing each other. The strength Dettlaff needs to keep up with Regis' unwavering whims is truly astonishing. He does so effortlessly, claiming Regis and barely breaks a sweat. 

Geralt appreciates a good looking man when he sees one, and by Gods is Dettlaff fine. Sculptured, toned and muscled perfectly, hair in all the right places, a nice amount of fat around his wide hips and thighs, making his ass pop no matter what position he's in. 

He's truly a masterpiece, masculine in some places and a speck of femininity in others. He makes Geralt's blood rush south in any situation; when they spar shirtless in his yard, or when he washes the dishes with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. 

So simply as when he's quietly reading by the fire, his silhouette highlights his high cheekbones and chiseled jaw.

He wasn't expecting this when he and Regis first got together. Their relationship was out of longing and passion. Finding out one of his best friends wasn't dead after all led to some intense emotions and heated sex.

Geralt first met Dettlaff after being told of all the wonderful and selfless things he'd done for Regis, and Geralt wanted to give him anything he wanted, having an appreciation he'd never be able to overcome. 

The dark, sunken vampire barely even spoke after his thanks, and left the two shortly after. Regis had looked so torn, opening up about his and Dettlaff's relationship, their bonding. He admitted he and Dettlaff were taking things slow, and that their bond didn't necessarily mean that they were mated, but Dettlaff didn't know how to differentiate the two. 

Now, he knows how shy and reserved the younger vampire is, uneasy of Geralt when they met, and unsure of where his and Regis' relationship stood now that Regis had Geralt. 

Geralt learned that Dettlaff was ready to flee, not wanting to intervene with Geralt and Regis, and heartbroken. 

When Regis tracked him down and explained, they worked out a compromise, which included Geralt. They would both be with Regis, and would respect one another. As long as they were comfortable and happy, that's all that mattered. 

Now look at them; he stayed, and now, he's helping Geralt and Regis clean up their dinner plates in their home, chuckling along with Geralt's jokes and Regis' sass. 

(°♡°)

Nothing stays perfect forever, and that comes to a head when Dettlaff starts brooding again. 

Regis mentioned something about how Dettlaff is highly emotional, and doesn't quite understand how to handle them since they're so intense. 

Geralt picks up on things, noticing how he seems to become frustrated and pinched when both Geralt and Regis talk with him, especially when they talk at the same time. 

He notices how he always keeps his skin covered, rarely wearing anything that's sleeveless. 

He sees how Dettlaff needs a moment to think things over while they talk, but it's not as common. He has good and bad days, and on the worst ones, he completely shuts everything out. 

Like today, where even the gentle airflow seems to be bothering him. 

Geralt gives him his space, concerned and now sure on how to go about this. It's frustrating to him, he's a man of action and solving problems. 

Dettlaff is an enigma, showing signs of emotional distress but not wanting to soothe it. 

He's finicky with what he touches, and Geralt realizes all his clothes are made from a fine cotton.

The vampire covers himself head to toe in soft cotton cloth, besides his coat and gloves. Those are the only two items, and his boots, that aren't made from the stuff.

He hasn't worn any of them at all, Geralt notices, even when the vampire retreats outside when he and Regis start talking in the kitchen. 

Geralt turns to Regis, a brow raised. "Where's he going?" He asks passively, curious on what exactly is going through his lover's head. 

"Probably the river. He likes it when he gets like this." Regis says softly, not as worried as Geralt.

"Can you tell me what's going on, then?" He asks, feeling out of loop. Regis knows Dettlaff best, and possibly is the only one who knows Dettlaff this deeply. He's a very reserved person, and it makes Geralt painfully aware of the gap he has to fill between them.

"He's having a bad day." Regis says, and gestures for Geralt to take a seat. 

Geralt does so, and rests his forearms onto the table. "Yeah? I've never seen anyone like this," he says.

"He's sensitive, and sometimes everything is too overwhelming for him. You know, it's like when you're overdosing on your potions, not as extreme but still annoying. " _The world is buzzing and you can't do anything about it",_ he's explained." Regis says, his hands waving about as he does. 

Geralt thinks it over, remembering how horrible he felt when he'd overdose and come down. How his skin crawled and how his head spun and every touch and sound split his skull.

He hopes Dettlaff's thing isn't that bad, but he has a bit of a better understanding now.

"Is he going to be okay?" He asks finally, and Regis gives him a soft smile. 

"He should be. He gets like this every once in a while. Knowing him, he'll come back when he's ready." Regis hums, elbows resting on the table as he picks up his pencil again to finish journaling.

And so, Geralt sits and thinks a few things over. With one of his mates gone, the house feels a little empty. 

(°♡°)

It had taken a day for Dettlaff to come back, and when he did his shirt was off and damp, his hair loose and not slicked back like he prefers, and his bangs part in the middle, both sides swooping down and curling towards each other. 

His feet are muddy, and he takes a moment to wipe them on the stone before stepping into their house. 

It's quiet in the early morning and peaceful. 

Regis is unsurprisingly up and doesn't say anything as Dettlaff goes about taking care of his things. 

The shirt goes in the hamper, and he finds an already dirty towel in there to wipe his feet off more. He changes quietly in their room, before making his way out and up to the loft. 

He'd taken it over since he moved in, the room full of his art supplies and scattered projects. 

He takes a breath, sitting down on the lumps of blankets and old pillows he'd gathered and relaxes. 

(°♡°)

During a hot, sticky day in Toussaint, Geralt finds himself walking alongside Regis and Dettlaff, feeling their nervous, excited energies as they stroll. 

"We've been thinking..." Regis starts slowly and lets out a quiet sigh. "Remember when we talked about our fertility?" He asks.

"Yeah..?" _oh no he's been thinking,_ Geralt asks after they stop walking, standing near a small river. 

"Mhm, and how Dettlaff is much more apt for childbearing?" Regis' dark eyes are looking around, avoiding Geralt's eyes. 

"Yeah?" He hums, turning to look at Dettlaff who stood behind him. "And?"

"We were thinking of starting a family, and want to know where you stand with that idea." Regis says gently. 

Geralt squints for a second, about to ask why would his opinion matter. "You want me involved too?" He asks, just to be sure. 

"Of course." Regis smiles softly at him once Geralt looks at him again. "You're our mate, we wouldn't go through with this without consulting you." 

"Oh." Geralt sighs, feeling his shoulders drop. "I uh, I don't know what to say." He admits. 

"You don't have to say anything right now." Dettlaff says gently, his deep voice pleasant to his ears. "You have plenty of time to think it through. We just want to let you know how we feel." 

"Why do you want to have a kid now? Not to be rude, but… why?" Geralt asks, a little lost as he looks between his two vampires. 

"A lot of reasons." Dettlaff simply says. "Mainly because we have a mated pack, which is something we thought we could never have again." 

"And that it's safer with a larger number of mates. Without you, it would be much harder." Regis says, and when Geralt's face stays scrunched in confusion, he goes on. "We're highly social creatures. Before the Conjunction of Spheres, our species had groups of mates, and even larger packs. The bonds within the mated groups helped through their pregnancies, which are very difficult and dangerous to go through alone."

Dettlaff shifts on his feet and nods. "You should know, there are two subtle types of traits in higher vampires, which is simply translated to paternal and maternal. Maternal vampires are the ones leading the pack, the strongest members and most emotional." He says, and Geralt realizes he's maternal. "Hence why we shift our cycles, so we can have breaks and even out our population." Dettlaff turns to inspect a bush, uneasy with the subject. "Paternal were the ones who kept the pack in order, helped with the young and old, supplied food and were known for their skills in crafts."

"These traits aren't strict," Regis adds, "but the main thing that differentiates a maternal driven vampire to a paternal is their strength. Only the strongest members can carry a child to term." Regis says, his gaze far away for a moment before he sobers up. "Luckily, Dettlaff is maternal, and he will carry if we choose to go through with this." He finishes.

Geralt takes a moment to digest, letting out a breath. "What if we're not enough?" He asks, concern written all over his face. "You've said you'll need mated groups, and it's just the three of us." 

"Yes, but our bond is strong, and we're safe. Plus, Dettlaff is incredibly powerful, and I do not say that lightly." Regis says and cracks a smile. "Honestly, his strength rivals an Elder, and in a different life, he might have become one." 

Dettlaff fights a smile and walks over to the two of them. "I appreciate your words of encouragement, Regis." He murmurs and stands shoulder to shoulder with the other vampire. He looks at Geralt, giving him a rare, soft smile. "I still want to try. If it doesn't work, then fine." He says. 

Geralt takes a moment to think back to when Ciri was little, how much fun and tiring it was. He'd gladly do it all over again, especially now with Regis and Dettlaff. "Alright… I'm willing to try too." He says and smiles as both his mates faces light up, smiles so wide that their teeth aren't carefully contained.

He's surrounded by vampires as he's hugged, a thing that's becoming more common, and he wouldn't have it any other way.


	3. Dettlaff's Heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dettlaff finally has his heat and he's a sweet treat!

Winter rolls around and it's as tame as always in Toussaint. The temperature rarely becomes too cold for a simple long sleeve, let alone cold enough to bother a witcher and two higher vampires.

Corvo Bianco is much quieter now in the lull of the holiday season. Many of the vineyard workers are on break, gone off to visit their families or enjoy their time off in their own homes.

Geralt works on cooking with Regis, handing him spices and chopping vegetables that they grew in their garden for a stew. He would've gone to hunt for the turkey meat himself, but Regis claims it would be better to buy a plumped up one from a local farmer.

"To keep the market flowing, Geralt." He tells him, wearing a little smile on his face. It's bullshit in his own opinion, but he doesn't really care now, basking in his down time with one of his mates. Truly domestic, what would Yennefer say?

The stew is slowly cooking over a low fire, the two of them in the living room enjoying the quiet and peace. The scent of the food cooking and the homey feeling settles warm over Geralt, and before he knows it he finds himself with his eyes closed and half asleep. 

The bedroom door creaks open and out pops a disheveled looking Dettlaff. His hair is a mess, face scrunching up in the low lighting. His shirt is twisted and soaked with sweat, standing in the hallway looking Regis and Geralt over. 

Dettlaff makes his way over to them with heavy steps, pouting as he plops on the small couch next to Regis. It's uncharacteristic, seeing him so loose and unkempt. Apparently, holding himself up right and tight isn't on his mind at the moment.

The larger vampire manages to curl up into a ball against the other, looking small and vulnerable with how tightly he packs himself against Regis. His cycle had begun a day ago, starting with a slight fever and fatigue. It's different from Regis' own, who becomes a restless mess, and Geralt finds it fascinating how different the two of them are.

"Ah," Regis sighs, setting one of his older books down and wraps an arm around him. "Are you ready, love?" He asks, stroking his upper arm.

Dettlaff makes a small groan at that, hiding his face away from Geralt's curious gaze. Usually, Dettlaff skips his estrus to help Regis out since they could flip.

One goes into their cycle, the other stays the same to care for the other. It was honestly pretty neat in Geralt's opinion, a symbiosis. He'll gladly help either way. They'd told him that in larger mated packs, they'd flip flop every season or so. 

Coming back to the present, Geralt hears a quiet "not yet," from the larger vampire. 

For a while, Regis' gentle touch is enough. Regis cuddles Dettlaff while Geralt sits by, keeping close as Dettlaff requests, and occasionally checking on their dinner. 

Eventually, Dettlaff becomes a little restless, his brows furrowing as his skin flushes. At some point he shed his shirt and still he was sweating. 

Geralt is beckoned over and helps Dettlaff rearrange so all three of them can sit in the chaise lounge, when an ominous creek comes from it. 

"Maybe we should move this to our bed." Geralt suggests. 

With a grumbling whine that's pitchy for his low voice and a small nod, Dettlaff slowly moves out of their laps, standing with Geralt's help. He tugs on the witcher's hands and leads him down the hall to their room.

The bed, unlike the chair, has been reinforced since the two vampires moved into his house. He found out Dettlaff has a knack for wood working and together made a durable bed frame that could hold the three of them without protest. It was honestly pretty impressive watching Dettlaff work, and all Geralt had to do was describe the way he wanted the frame and he _drew_ it, sketching it out to Geralt's liking before making it himself.

Geralt is rather proud of it, even if he didn't do any labor. The beautiful polished dark oak matching their room perfectly. An old witcher saying had popped into his head after finishing it, that witchers never die in their beds, and Geralt felt a fiery urge to prove that saying wrong. 

Dettlaff pulls him down onto the bed, the sheets rumpled and having been kicked to the end of the mattress at some point, falling off the edge.

Dettlaff's warm, sweaty body clings to Geralt once they both settle on the mattress, his soft breathing the only sound Geralt is paying attention to. 

Geralt lays on his side, Dettlaff's head cradled in the nook of his arm and rests against his chest. A large leg wraps over Geralt's own, and an arm snakes over his waist. 

He's ensnared, and all he can do is wrap an arm over Dettlaff and gently rub his back. He switches his motions, swirling his fingers over slick, defined muscle and pale skin. 

They lay like that for what feels like hours. Regis stops in at some point to tell Geralt about the stew, saying it's coming along great and then leaves the two when Dettlaff says Geralt is enough. 

It made Geralt's heart flutter to hear his soft, deep voice say that. Geralt, being enough for someone, for _once_. 

They stay like that for a while, Geralt dozing off again with Dettlaff curled into his side. 

He wakes when Dettlaff's body gives a heavy shudder, a weak sound coming from him. Now, the vampire is clammy and pale, shivering as if he were sick. 

Geralt wakes up fully when his nose picks up the scent of Dettlaff's arousal. He gently coaxes Dettlaff onto his back, the vampire's brows pinching with his eyes closed. His lips part and his voice comes out low and gravely.

" _Geralt-_ " he whispers, his big hands coming up to grasp at his sides. Geralt shushes him, his own hands moving to cup Dettlaff's cool cheek and strokes his thumb over his cheek bone. 

"I'm here," Geralt murmurs, watching Dettlaff's nostrils flare as he scents the warm air. "Whatever you need," he says, hoping he'll still be enough. 

Dettlaff doesn't even open his eyes, hands tightening in their grip on his shirt. "Kiss me." He demands, starting to shake lightly.

"Yeah?" Geralt sighs before he's placing his lips against Dettlaff's soft ones. His vampires never seem to suffer from chapped lips. 

The kiss turns hungry, Dettlaff's breathing picking up with the wet, hot brush of Geralt's tongue against his lips. 

Soon Geralt finds himself between Dettlaff's legs, their hips making gentle contact that riles Dettlaff up further if the sounds he makes are anything to go by. 

His big, boney hands cup Geralt's face and pull him away, looking up at him with big eyes. "Regis," he breathes. "I need him too." 

Geralt nods, and fights back a tinge of disappointment before gathering himself and getting up. 

He stumbles out of the bed, achingly hard as he opens the door and pops his head out in search for his other partner. 

Regis is pacing the living room when Geralt pokes his head out and perks up. 

"Is he alright?" Regis asks, walking over to Geralt. 

"Yeah, he just said he needs you." Geralt says, heart feeling heavy, but can't help the way his cock jerks at the thought of watching the two of them. 

Regis nods and follows Geralt into their bedroom, seeing that Dettlaff had shed the bed of its sheet and blanket, and himself completely naked. 

"Oh, love." Regis sighs as he looks him over, the scent of Dettlaff's slick cunt thick in the air. Geralt doesn't miss how Regis' nostrils flare and how his lips twitch when he comes into the room.

Regis starts to strip himself, and he urges Geralt to as well. "He is going to be very clingy, it is different from mine." He says as he moves to unlace Geralt's pants, looking at him with dark eyes.

He can hear Dettlaff shifting on the bed, eyes leaving Regis' gaze for a second before his lips are captured. 

Geralt moans into it, especially as Regis' hand cups his cock through his smalls. His hands grip Regis' shoulders and shivers as he hears Dettlaff choke on a moan. 

Now _h_ _e's_ being watched, and it sends a heated shock through his veins at the thought. He can hear fingers against something filthy wet, and he moans again as Dettlaff's scent spikes with arousal. 

His cock is being massaged so wonderfully, rough fingers rubbing and touching all over the heated flesh after Regis tugs the clothing down. He steps out of them and kicks them off to the side.

After a sharp nip to his bottom lip, Regis pulls away and takes a deep breath. "The things you two do to me…" his voice is deep and rumbly, something Geralt hasn't heard before and it makes him even more excited. 

He gives a pitchy yelp when Regis takes a handful of his bare ass, claws digging in and pressing him up against Regis. 

Geralt takes a breath, hands moving to Regis' chest. "Where has this side been?" He asks, a cheeky smile on his face. 

Regis grins back, mischievous and lustful eyes gleaming at him in the low light. "Reluctantly hidden." He growls, and spins Geralt around to face the bed. 

Geralt gasps at the show of strength, cock bobbing and slapping his upper leg with the sudden movement. 

He gasps again at the sight of Dettlaff who has two fingers slowly going in and out of his slick cunt. His face is focused, icy eyes watching them with a hazy look as his toes curl and thighs quiver. That was a sight to behold, and Geralt's prick leaks from the tip with a heady throb. 

"Fuuuck." Geralt groans, tossing his head back against Regis' shoulders. Regis cages him in with his arms wrapping around his waist and a hand on his cock. 

Geralt sucks in a harsh breath when a tight squeeze to the base of his prick makes his breathing falter, and feels Regis' warm breath against his neck. 

"Don't want you spilling too soon, love. Dettlaff hasn't even gotten a taste and you are already leaking." He whispers, and Geralt can't help the full body shiver at that. Apparently contraction words aren't an issue for him at the moment.

"Regis…" Geralt huffs, eyes locking with Dettlaff's light blue ones. 

"Do you want him, Dettlaff?" Regis asks, his voice low and soft, and his breathing is deep, sending bouts of warm air against Geralt's neck and ear. 

"Yes," Dettlaff moans quietly, removing his hand from himself. "Please, Geralt." He sighs, hands now behind him to support his weight, gripping the sheets as he watches his two mates. 

Geralt shivers again, moaning softly as Regis strokes him with feather light touches before letting him go. 

Geralt feels Regis' hands on his shoulders, pushing him towards their mate. Geralt easily complies, crawling up onto the bed on his knees between Dettlaff's thighs. 

Regis' hands run up his back while his own hands land on Dettlaff's pecs, using his weight to settle him down onto the bed. 

With Dettlaff laying on his back and his legs locking around Geralt's waist, Regis hands roam his bare back and feels the flexing muscles beneath his touch.

Dettlaff makes a strangled noise as Geralt settles over him, breathing heavily and squirming below him. 

"Are you okay?" Geralt asks, a little concerned even as Dettlaff nods. 

"It's … overwhelming." He rasps, gripping at Geralt's arms, and is quick to say, "do not stop." 

Geralt moans softly as two pairs of hands explore his skin, one finding his cock and pumping it in a loose fist. 

"Geralt," Dettlaff whines, a silly, sexy thing from his throat, and pulls him into a heated kiss, moaning softly as their hips meet.

A hand wraps around from behind and grabs a hold of his cock, the other hand letting go and grasps at Geralt's side. 

Regis guides his shaft against Dettlaff's wet vulva, and Geralt can feel his own prick against his ass, hot like a brand and needy.

He moans into Dettlaff's mouth, eyes clenching closed as his cock starts to slide into Dettlaff, one of his own hands moving to grab the back of Dettlaff's head, fist tangling in his hair. 

The vampire beneath him gasps and arches, fingernails digging into Geralt's flesh as he bottoms out with a groan. 

"Geralt, Regis," Dettlaff pants, shaking apart beneath him as Regis grabs onto Geralt's hips.

"That's it, let him fuck you." Regis says over Geralt's shoulder, and he opens his eyes to find Dettlaff's half lidded, staring up at him with glazed eyes and his teeth digging into his bottom lip. 

Geralt starts moving his hips, watching his partner's face as he dives into his perfect pussy. 

It's slightly tighter than what he's used to with Regis, and Geralt hopes he'll be able to taste him before this is over, especially after Regis has his turn. He's never felt or played with Dettlaff's vulva, and he's almost worried he'll become addicted. 

The thought of eating him out after makes him groan and his hips jerk, his mouth already watering at the idea of tasting both his partners, eating Dettlaff out like a starving man. 

He comes back to reality with Regis voice in his ear, "oh Geralt, you are fucking him so well." The older vampire sighs, and Geralt focuses back on Dettlaff's face to find his eyes closed and mouth open just enough to take in ragged breaths. 

His chest is rising and falling rapidly, covered in sweat and a gorgeous flush. 

"Love watching you _breed_ him, dear. Fill him up, give him what he wants." Regis whispers breathlessly into his ear, and Geralt lets out a shout as he comes hard, surprising himself with how quickly and suddenly he orgasms, pumping his hips with the pulsing of his cock. 

He watches as Dettlaff's face scrunches up and how he shakes and scratches at Geralt's skin as his pussy clamps around Geralt, making his hips jerk again.

Geralt kisses the vampire hard, hips firmly pressed against Dettlaff's own as he feels him ride out his orgasm, moaning into the smear of their lips. 

They break apart with thundering hearts, Geralt pulls out of him after a moment with a shudder, a sigh and smile, giddy now that he's come down from his orgasm. He falls back on his knees, Regis behind him to support his weight as his chest expands and contracts as he catches his breath. 

Dettlaff doesn't have the energy he does, laying on the bed with his legs spread and hands on his belly, looking up at the ceiling and breathing heavily.

"Oh, dear _Elders_ … that was.." he takes in a breath. " _Good_." Dettlaff sighs with a shaky, deep laugh. He sounds exhausted, and Geralt remembers how tired Regis would get after orgasming. 

Regis hums, a hand rubbing Geralt's shoulder as he passes him and climbs onto the bed. "Are you alright?" He asks, fingers carding through the larger vampire's hair. 

"Yes, more than." He smiles, looking up at Regis with what Geralt could only describe as lovey eyes. 

They kiss tenderly, cupping each other's faces and Geralt gingerly climbs further into bed behind Regis. 

Regis turns to him and offers a smile. "And you, how are you?" He asks, already running his hands up Geralt's arms.

"Just had one hell of an orgasm. I'm great." He grins and sighs into the kiss Regis gives him. 

"I am glad," Regis murmurs against his lips and Geralt feels his heart flutter at that. "Now, we should sleep." He says. "I will grab some of that stew for us, I think this is a good occasion to eat in bed." He says and gets up. 

Geralt watches as he leaves, and then looks down at Dettlaff who has already moved to the head of the bed, curling up naked.

"We have some blankets you know." Geralt murmurs teasingly, and leans over the bed to grab them. 

When he's upright again, he sets the blanket out and lays it over Dettlaff, gently tucking him in as he'd done for him dozens of times before. 

"There. Cozy?" He asks, Dettlaff already half asleep. 

"Very," comes his low, rumbly reply, and Geralt hums in response right as Regis comes in with a few bowls of stew and bread. 

Geralt happily takes a bowl and a few slices of bread before tucking in, thanking Regis quietly as Dettlaff dozes off. 

"You two were quite the sight," Regis says softly, eating his own food next to Geralt. "I would gladly sit and watch anytime. I found what you like in it." He grins, eying Geralt up.

"Insustainable." Geralt chuckles at the spicy scent of his lust, and dips his bread into the stew. "And yeah, it was so fucking good Regis, fuck. And you too, wouldn't have been the same without you." 

Regis just hums and smiles. "Thank you, and we definitely would not want to do this without you, or anything really. I cannot imagine going a day without you here." He says softly. Apparently his heart is overflowing as he tells him this, eyes having a fond look in them. 

It's something they've been doing more of lately, gushing their hearts out whenever, because they can. 

Geralt smiles and gently bumps their shoulders. "Thanks, Regis. That means a lot to me." He says earnestly, feeling his chest warm up at his words. He doesn't know what else to say, but he appreciates it all the same. 

They eat the rest of their food in comfortable silence, enjoying each other's company before falling asleep. 


	4. Domestic, Spicy Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just some fluff and smut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sad to say that I am losing interest in this fic... I'm very sick at the moment, which could be why I don't have the energy I used to have to put into this. I have written the majority of this fic with 1-3 more chapters i had aimed to write, plus a bit of editing. I will try to keep going and publish every two weeks like I said, but I really don't want to grow to resent this fic. I loved it, but for some reason my brain is telling me that this is too indulgent and disgusting >:( what the heck brain you came up with this!!! 
> 
> I'm so glad to have people interested and invested in this fic, and I want to do it, I want to finish it because I know in the long run I'm going to regret not finishing it, but I'm just so burnt out and sickly that even opening the document makes me cringe and flee. Same with all my other WIPs, so this isn't an anomaly in my desire to write, this is just from being sick and burnt out emotionally. 
> 
> I love my readers and I want to be a reliable author, but if I don't post on time please understand that it's not because I want to quit, it's because I'm seriously sick and don't have any help to heal from it. I'm not sure how to either, since it's something I've rarely brought up, but it's debilitating me. I love and appreciate you all and I hope that my fic brings you joy in these hard times.
> 
> I want to bring this fic, and others like it, into the world of AO3, because this trope is a guilty pleasure of mine and I'm obsessed! I have been planning this fic since September, and I want to see it though. It is my longest ever, so it's intimidating, and the writing style is throwing me off a little. I hope I recover soon because writing this gave me so much joy and purpose. I hope you all had safe and happy holidays, and put yourself first! 
> 
> Enjoy, and ignore any spelling errors in this notes because this was written on a whim and I'm exhausted 😅
> 
> If any of you lovelies would like to help motivate me, do minor beta reading, and have sneak peeks of the fic and others like it, feel free to message me on Discord! I could use a few people to help get me going, and I'm sure we can bond over how sexy this trio is 😂 
> 
> Bonki__uwu#4549 
> 
> Again, enjoy!

Geralt honestly can't think of anything better to do at the moment, one hand intertwined with Dettlaff's larger hand, grounding him with his thighs thrown over his shoulders.

He's buried between his thighs, lapping up his vulva and balls and moaning as his love tenses with every pass over his tiny clit.

Geralt may not be fully present at the moment, eyes closed, probably a little _t_ _oo_ deprived of air, but he doesn't care. 

Dettlaff's legs tense again, a gruntal groan coming from him as Geralt's free hand sneaks under his ass, reaching his cunt. His arm is going to go numb, but he couldn't care less, thumbing his loose hole lazily. Cum and slick coat the digit and it sends a hot rush down his belly.

It drives Dettlaff wild, shoulders twisting in Regis' hold. Their larger vampire is resting against Regis, hiding his face in his neck and shuddering. 

Dettlaff can't go without their touch anymore, needing as much of them as he can get while being profoundly horny. It drives Geralt crazy that his cock can't keep up. Thankfully he has a few tricks up this sleeve to let both he and Regis rest. 

No wonder why they need groups to sustain a heat-ridden mate.

Dettlaff is a puddle of hormonal vampire, limbs loose and heavy. It's one of the most beautiful things Geralt has seen, and he's more than happy to help in any way he can. 

With a sharp inhale and a full body tremble, Dettlaff cums on his tongue, the hand intertwined in his tightening while his cunt spasms.

Geralt moans with him, his brows pinched and pressing wet kisses against his mound while his thumb circles just inside his entrance. 

Within a few moments Dettlaff sags, cunt still throbbing rhythmically around his thumb that rests in there, giving him something to feel rather than being empty. Turns out he hates cuming around nothing. He's slowly descending down from his high as his legs spread and let Geralt go. 

Geralt pops up with a hum and a tired grin on his face, proud of himself for sating his mate. He gazes at his two partners, Dettlaff with his eyes closed and panting softly and Regis giving him one of the most intense stares he's ever received. 

He can see the fiery lust in his black eyes, the way his chest is rapidly rising and falling, looking like he's ready to pounce. 

Dettlaff stretches before Regis acts, long limbs shaking with it before he goes limp again and kisses Regis' cheek. 

"Mhm." He hums as he wiggles off of Regis' chest. 

Regis and Geralt get under the sheets with him, surrounding him as he falls asleep. 

Regis is quick to sit up on an elbow, looking at Geralt and urging him to sit up as well. 

With a hand around the back of his neck, he's kissed within an inch of his life, moaning brokenly as Regis licks his lips, tasting Dettlaff on him.

"You have no idea how much I wanted to fuck you while you ate him out." He rasps quietly, voice gruff and eyes lighting up. 

Geralt tips his head back a little to breathe, taking in lungfuls of fresh air. "Fuck, Regis."

"Oh Geralt, I want to see you on your stomach like that again." Regis growls, leaning over Dettlaff to nose at his neck. "Want to see your ass up in the air while you lick up his cunt." He whispers against his throat, and Geralt shivers. 

"Regis…" Geralt whines, his hand grabs at Regis' upper arm at the feeling of his fangs against his shoulder. "I want you to." His cock gives a heavy throb, half hard but too sensitive to touch.

"I will, I promise. I am sure Dettlaff would love that." He says, licking a stripe up his neck. "Him watching you get fucked while looking so pretty between his legs." 

"Yes," Geralt hisses, capturing Regis' lips again in a hungry kiss. 

"I promise we will. But for now, sleep." And soon Geralt is out like a light. 

(°♡°)

The days pass in a haze. The scent of their arousal and spend and sweat mixing into a salty flurry, assaulting Geralt's nose through his exhaustion. 

Nothing is clean, just thrown off the bed haphazardly and forgotten about until Geralt, of all people, decides enough is enough. 

Dettlaff hasn't felt the need for sex in hours now, and Geralt is the only one up at the moment. A perk to being easily spent is more time to rest and recover. Now, he's picking up all their laundry, ready to draw water to rigorously clean their sheets. 

The larger vampire hasn't been up for anything else, dead to the world. His face hides under a pillow and lays on his front. 

Geralt hums as he wipes off all the spunk that got onto his own skin, then Dettlaff's. From his inner thighs to his butt, he wipes it up and Dettlaff doesn't even move. If he could get it up he definitely would at the sight and thought of how absolutely full he must be. 

The thoughts diminish as he pulls back and looks at the mess on the rag. "Ew." Geralt cringes as he pulls the cloth from between Dettlaff's unmoving legs. "Holy shit, I'm throwing everything out." As arousing as the thought of all that cum in him is, it's also nasty and sticky and cold.

Regis gives a deep laugh at that, having gotten up when Geralt started cleaning. He dresses with a shit eating grin on his face as he foreigns disgust. 

Geralt rolls his eyes at him. "You should be cleaning this, you beast." Geralt scoffs, tossing the rag at Regis who catches it with a flare of his nostrils and a quiet cackle. "Unlike you, _I_ don't cum that much. This is your mess." He's grinning like a schoolboy when he jokes about this. It's stupid, but sex and the mess it makes _is_ kinda funny.

Though, in all honesty, he should've expected a monstrous creature to have a monstrous amount of spunk. 

"You flatter me," Regis purrs and bats his eye lashes. That's a stupid look too, but also ridiculously funny and it makes Geralt's chest bubble with laughter. "Now, let's leave him be. Don't need him cranky when he wakes." Regis says and walks out of the room with his shirt undone and in loose pants, still carrying the rag. 

Geralt makes a face, following him out of their room. "You're gonna throw that away, right?" He asks, gesturing to the rag. 

"Of course!" Regis squawks. "What kind of beast do you take me for?" He says and tosses the thing onto the growing pile of soiled sheets. 

"A horny one." Geralt shrugs. Regis huffs, walking past the pile and into the kitchen. 

Geralt follows, leaning up against the wall as Regis washes his hands. "Didn't think dried, cold semen was your thing." 

Regis sputters, flushing red down the back of this neck. "It's not _that_ , Elders Geralt _no_." He laughs, turning to face him as he dries his hands. He's practically glowing, and Geralt feels giddy with him. "It is the thought of what happened…" he sighs. "And the scent, honestly, but I do not need a filthy rag for that." 

Geralt cackles and shakes his head. "You're gross. But I get it." He says and moves to wash his own hands. "Scent is huge for me too, you know. I can't smell as well as you two but I can definitely tell when one of you is in the mood, or in a mood." He says and feels Regis' breath against the back of his neck before a pair of arms wraps around his waist. 

"Mhm. I have definitely noticed how strong your sense of smell is, Witcher and all." He says and gently squeezes him. "I enjoy it. It makes me feel more connected, knowing you have an idea of what Dettlaff and I can scent and understand.."

Geralt hums and nods, wiping his hands dry before turning in his hold. He looks Regis in his eyes, resting his hands on his shoulders. "I like it too. Gives me a better idea of what's going on with you two." He says and pulls him into a kiss. 

He's pushed up against the counter as Regis mushes into him, humming softly. It's tender and devouring, Geralt letting Regis take the reins and moans as his mouth is claimed. 

One of his hands grabs the edge of the counter behind him, gripping it tightly as the other winds up into Regis' hair, tugging at that too before Regis breaks the kiss with a shudder and a sharp inhale. 

They look at each other, Geralt looking over his vampire's face, at his nose, the slight bags under his wrinkled eyes, the creases in his forehead. 

He can't find anything wrong or truly flawed. Maybe that's him being sappy, but at the moment he doesn't care, basking in his love and glee. 

Geralt gently pecks Regis' wet lips before pushing him back. "We've got a whole trunk of laundry to clean, remember?" He asks, smiling innocently at Regis. 

The vampire rolls his eyes, kisses Geralt chastly before pulling away, squeezing his hip as he goes. "You are correct." He says and starts fixing his shirt. "You should know…" Regis starts, "I really want what we talked about last night. When the bed is made I hope to find you there waiting for me, open and wanton." He says, almost casually except for the rumble of his chest as he flashes him a toothy grin before misting away. 

Geralt stands in the kitchen for a moment with his puffy lips open in surprise before closing his mouth with a click of his teeth. 

He clears his throat and feels the heat in his face as he goes to pick up the laundry, assuming Regis is out working on the tub. 

He feels a giddy grin pull at the corners of his lips and lets his face fall into a smile, heart thumping away in his chest with his love for Regis. 


	5. Chef Problems

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regis and Geralt make some brownies and have a bit of sexy time. It's a little cheesy, not very well edited so sorry for any mistakes I'll reread it in a bit! A little burnt out at the moment but I really want to write. 
> 
> The next few chapters are written and edited without a beta so I may publish next week depending on how I'm doing. I keep rereading the drafts and I'm like "this is so good I wish someone would write more" and then I realize I have to write it 😭😂 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy and have a good rest of your week my lovely, kinky readers! Love you all!

"And it's so fucking rural out there that once you lose the path good luck finding your way out." Geralt rambles, working on the oven to make sure it's the right temperature for the brownies they're making. 

"Rural, dear." Regis says passively, not even looking up at Geralt as he focuses on mixing the egg into the batter, and what that means is separating the yolk from the whites effortlessly, filling and pouring the yolk between the two eggs shells a few times to get all the whites out until he's left with just the yolk. Fucking perfectionist. 

"Excuse me?" Geralt asks and stops what he's doing and turns to look at him. 

"Rural. _Rur-ulh_." Regis answers, meeting his eyes with an innocent look and a small smile. 

"No, _rur-all_." Geralt says, closing the part of the oven where the wood goes and dusts his hands off on his pants.

"It is really not, Geralt." Regis hums and keeps stirring, his new apron startlingly clean compared to the table they're using. 

"But there's an 'a' in there." Geralt says and furrows his brows, walking over to him. "Seriously, it's not a big deal on pronunciation." 

"Yes, but you are wrong. You know how particular I am with pronunciation so do not start with me." Regis says firmly, though Gerslt can tell he's only teasing. 

"Uh huh. It's such a turn off when you turn into an English professor." Geralt mumbles and moves to grab the tray they are using for the brownies.

"And you know how much of a turn off it is for me when you talk like a brute." Regis answers. 

"Witcherman speak troll, vampireman like, no?" Geralt asks, a shit eating grin on his face as Regis gasps, exasperated. 

"You are repulsive." Regis huffs and sets the spoon down, having the mixture settle in the bowl. "Seriously, I do not know why I put up with this." He says solemnly, pouring the batter into the pan. 

"Because you love me." Geralt says as he wraps his arms around Regis' trim waist, nosing at the back of his head. 

"Sure." Regis chuckles and leans back against him, scraping out the last of the mix before settling the bowl down. 

"I do like your silly little apron." Geralt says and loops his arms around Regis' middle. "Hugs your waist nicely." 

"Mhm, I think it suits me well." Regis says and wiggles out of Geralt's to tidy up more, leaving the pan on the counter. 

"It does." Geralt nods, looking him over with a hand on his chin as he watches Regis bend down to put away the tried bowl. 

"Are you trying to compliment your way into forgiveness? Because it is not going to work." Regis says as he stands up straight again, putting his hands on his hips as he faces Geralt. 

Geralt groans. "It's not that bad." He says and walks over to him, a hand gently grabbing his elbow and leading him away from the cabinet back to the counter. "Besides, I can't stop thinking of what you told me earlier…" Geralt murmurs, voice dropping a view octaves. "And as chaft as my dick is, I still want it." He says and lets go of Regis' arm, standing in front of him. 

Regis hums again. "Ah, charm your way into my pants then?" He asks with a cocky grin. 

"How else would I do it?" Geralt asks, his hands going to Regis' chest, feeling the fabric of the apron. 

He scoffs and looks down at his hands. "Geralt, I hate being crass with words but please go intercourse yourself." He says, and Geralt pauses before laughing a little. 

"Fuck me yourself, coward." He challenges, faces inches apart. He can feel the warmth of Regis' breath on his face.

"I just might… do you have any idea of what you are getting yourself into?" He asks, his own hands fisting into the hem of Geralt's shirt.

"If it's anything like what happened yesterday and the days before, then yeah, I do. I want it, and you promised it." Geralt mumbles. 

Regis nibbles on his bottom lip, looking Geralt over with dark eyes. "What are you thinking about?" Regis asks softly, his own hands reaching up to grasp Geralt's forearms. 

Geralt is swift in his sudden movement, taking Regis' wrists and pinning them to the counter and pressing himself against him. Regis makes a small noise, and if Geralt didn't know him better, he wouldn't expect how controlling and commanding he can be during sex with that reaction.

They're hip to hip, and Geralt notices Regis' chest expand and how his eyelids flutter for a second. He gives into Regis, knowing how much he loves to hear and picture what Geralt is thinking. "I've been thinking about you pinning me to the bed while you fuck me from behind, I love it when you keep me trapped under you. I want you to fuck me the way you fucked Dettlaff." He breathes, and adores the way Regis' own breath hitches and deepens. 

Regis is pinned to the counter, hands balling into fists while Geralt holds him there. "How much longer can you wait?" Regis asks, eyes locking with Geralt's. 

"I want it now, I don't care where." Geralt says, watching Regis' tongue as it darts out quickly to wet his lips. "I cleaned myself up, we're all good to go." 

Regis groans softly at that and as soon as Geralt lets go of his wrists he's being picked up, and within an instant they're in the living room, Regis setting him down roughly onto the couch.

Geralt pulls his shirt off hastily while Regis disappears all together for a moment, leaving Geralt to undress. By the time he's back Geralt's pants are halfway down his legs. 

Regis grabs him by his ankles, pulling him down the couch and closer to him. Geralt puffs out a breath, surprised at the sudden movement and drops down to his elbows at the loss of balance. 

Regis takes his pants off and moves his grip to the back of Geralt's thighs, and he shivers at how cool his fingers feel against his heated skin. 

Geralt watches with rapt attention as Regis plucks one of their bottles of lube out from his coat pocket, made from olive oil. It isn't the best feeling, but he'll gladly take it over spit. They have an abundance of it anyway, so might as well put it to good use.

Regis pops the stopper with his sharp teeth and holds the cork between his lips as he pours some onto his dominant hand, closing the bottle again and setting it down before focusing on Geralt. 

Geralt appreciates how precise he is when taking care of their oils, it's a pain in the ass to wash out, and they don't need to ruin this couch. 

He snaps out of his train of thought as blunt, cool fingers press against his ass, Regis' nails reduced to an average human's length. Geralt hums his thanks as his fingers slick up his ass and taint. 

Regis' free hand holds the back of his right knee, keeping him open while a digit slides into him. Regis' eyes are dark and focused, watching his finger sink into Geralt slowly. 

His chest is rising and falling rapidly, and Geralt huffs out a breath at the way his lower belly heats with arousal from the way Regis looks at him. 

Regis opens him with gentle fingers and patience. By the time Geralt is ready, he's laying on his back gripping the couch to steady himself, rocking his hips up against the four fingers inside of him. 

Geralt moans softly as Regis withdraws his hand, and soon Geralt's world is flipping and he is on his stomach, half on the couch. 

There's the sound of clothes rustling before Regis' hands grip his ass, kneading the heated skin with large, knobbly hands. Geralt whimpers, turning his head to look out into the living room instead of the backrest of the couch as Regis positions himself behind Geralt. 

One hand pulls his cheek back while the other leaves, the molten hot heat of his prick replacing the hand. It's wet and teasing, dipping against his hole and pressing into the tight ring of muscles, and just as Geralt is about to protest, he pushes in with a long slide. 

Geralt groans into the cushions, thighs trembling at the intrusion as Regis' boney hips press against his plush ass. Geralt pants softly, moaning at how hot and thick Regis feels inside of him. Heat soars through his veins as Regis holds his waist tightly, hearing his ragged breathing as he starts to move his hips. 

Geralt's breath gets punched out of him as Regis sets his pace, and Geralt scrambles for purchase against the couch frame, muffling his moans into the cushions to avoid getting too loud. 

"Regis," Geralt moans softly, squirming in his grasp. He has no leverage in this position, knees on the floor and toes curling as he's fucked. 

He can feel Regis' nails digging into his sides, the way his cock throbs inside of him. It's a heady feeling, and he's riding on a wave of pleasure as his prick rubs against the couch with his thrusts. 

Geralt loves the way Regis' breathing becomes erratic, how his hands grip him and hips sputter as he brings himself closer. Geralt reaches a hand down to start stroking himself, getting off on the way this feels and all the things they've done in the last forty-eight hours. 

The thoughts of Regis holding Dettlaff's hands above his head as he fucked him, the way their mate squirmed and wiggled at the assault. When Dettlaff rode Geralt while Regis claimed the taller vampire's mouth. 

He really does have enough spank material to last him a lifetime. 

Geralt moans as Regis' hand tangles in his hair, the grip tight as he starts to cum. Geralt fists himself faster, wanting Regis to feel him climax around him.

It doesn't take long with the gruntal sounds the vampire is making and the way his hips press as deep as he can go. With his cock rubbing him just right, Geralt cums with a low groan, not regretting for a second on how raw his dick feels. 

They stay there for a moment, breathing as Regis pets down his back, following the knobs of his spine down to his ass. 

A finger trails down the cleft, over his rim and then leaves, and Geralt turns his head as best he can to see Regis. 

It's a bit of a strain, but he can see out of the corner of his eye how wrecked Regis looks. "I think…" Regis starts, locking eyes with him. "That I am done with sex for a little while." He says, but he's cheeky and grinning wildly. 

Geralt scoffs at that, wiggling a little to try and get the pressure off his knees. "You say like you won't have a boner within an hour or two." Geralt says and makes a noise as Regis pulls out, feeling cloth against his leaking hole. "Is that my shirt?" He asks, and watches Regis shrug. 

Geralt gets up on shaky legs with Regis' arms around him to help. He gives him a kiss on the cheek as they plop onto the couch. "You're gonna wash this shirt you know." Geralt grins, leaning back against the couch as Regis dresses himself.

He tisks at that, grabbing the shirt when Geralt is done with it and gets up with a parting kiss. "You are lucky I do not mind doing these tasks." He teases, and then stiffens. "We forgot about the brownies." 

Geralt purses his lips at that. "Nothing's burning." He says. "Just make sure the oven's hot enough then throw them in." Geralt says as Regis gets up to take care of things. 

Geralt chuckles fondly, watching him with adoration as he goes about fussing. He shakes his head and stands, taking his time to redress himself before he goes over to the kitchen to help with whatever he needs. 


	6. Little After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dettlaff wakes up after a thorough heat and domestic life continues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Okay, so I've come to say that I'm likely going to take a break until I get motivated again. My medical issues are up and down, chronic illness is no joke and really dampers on my writing ability. 
> 
> The entire fic is plotted out, two more chapters need to be written (about 1.5k each) and a few need to be edited or finished. It's so close to being done, and yet whenever I open my docs I get frustrated. For some reason, I am disgusted with myself over this fic. It was something I really wanted, and yet... my stupid brain is letting me down. 
> 
> I miss my supports a lot too. My friends are also going through things, and I miss them so much it hurts. What really gets my writing process going is to have someone be there to listen to me ramble about plot or ideas, and give a little feedback. I like to feel like I won't be judged, and I can be safe to talk about fics like these. They're my weakness, and when I don't have those supports where I feel 100% safe (even if they are and I don't feel it) I lose interest. I have so many WIPS that were created when I had people like that, and I lose my desire when they're gone. No fault on them, things happen, and I don't want to put pressure onto people to have to stick with me 😅 
> 
> So yeah, for now, until whenever, this fic will likely be on pause. I'm so sorry, I tried, I'm so close, yet I can't keep forcing myself. I think about this fic all the time, but with my illnesses, my social life, and my home life, I am not in a good place to create. 
> 
> I apologize, and I hope to come back to this as soon as I can. Also sorry for the ramble, I probably won't edit it. I hate leaving works unfinished, and this is my first ever long fic so I think the pressure and excitement got to me. I didn't plan on publishing it until after I finished, yet my writing streak was at its peak and I didn't think I would tank like this. 
> 
> Thank you all for supporting me. I hope you have a great rest of your day/good day tomorrow.

When Dettlaff wakes it has long since past nightfall, rolling around in bed as he comes to his senses. 

It takes him a bit to get out of the mini coma he has been in, but when he does, he sits up with a huff and looks around the room. 

He notices both Regis and Geralt's scents have greatly diminished, still strong on the mattress, but other than that it is far too light for his comfort. 

Dettlaff rubs his face against a pillow, making a low noise of disappointment from waking up alone. He was not expecting to be alone and feels a little saddened by it. 

He sees the bedroom door, how it is slightly cracked open, and the scent of chocolate-ly goodness fills his nostrils and makes his stomach growl. 

With heavy limbs Dettlaff gets out of bed, shimmies on a pair of night pants, and leaves their room. He pads to the kitchen, hearing the voices of both his mates resonating from there.

Geralt is leaning up against the frame of the entryway, having seen him exit their room. Geralt offers a small smile. 

"Morning, well, evening." Geralt greets, standing up straighter as Dettlaff walks over to him.

Dettlaff looks around, eying everything and anything in the kitchen. "What have I missed?" He asks, voice low and gravely. 

"Nothing much. Laundry, some baking. Geralt's griping." Regis answers, dressed up in an apron. Dettlaff blinks at that, never having seen that article of clothing before. 

"Hey, if you weren't being so weird with the cum rag it wouldn't have been as big of a deal." Geralt cackles, an arm wrapping around Dettlaff's shoulders and pulls him close. "You never told me Regis had such a thing for spunk." He chuckles, his smile wide and stretching ear to ear.

Dettlaff gives him an unimpressed look. "Figured with your witcher deduction skills you would have found that out by now." He says and hears Regis' own cackling at that. "Besides, he has rarely had the chance to not have his cycle. It is exciting. I definitely like to smell my claim on my mate after it." He says, and it must be too casual for the way Geralt's face distorts as it goes through his emotions, before settling on a heated look.

"Well… damn. I dunno what to say to that." Geralt says and Regis laughs softly at his expense. 

Dettlaff scents his spike in arousal but ignores it, definitely beyond wanting sex at the moment. 

He perks up when he remembers the chocolate he smelt earlier. "What have you been making?" He asks, stepping out of Geralt's hold to inspect the brownies on the counter.

"Found an old recipe book in storage, and made these." He says, hands fiddling with the old cotton apron. "They just need to cool for a little longer, then they are up for the taking." 

"Then that is where the apron came from, I assume." Dettlaff says and looks him over. It is a simple print, old and worn, and looks adorable on Regis' smaller, lankier frame. 

"Yes. How do you like it?" He asks, and Dettlaff's heart soars. 

"Mhm, I like it very much." Dettlaff murmurs before turning to Geralt. "What other trouble did you two get into today?" 

"Why are you looking at me, what about Regis?" Geralt asks, only to be answered with a stony expression. "Uh, nothing really. Had to chase some angry chickens away while Regis grabbed their eggs." Geralt says. 

"Pesky little things. They do not have a rooster at the moment. Probably why they are so feisty." Regis scoffs, but smiles all the same, looking at the two of them. 

"Then we need another rooster. What happened to it?" Dettlaff asks, genuinely concerned for the little guy.

"Ran off? Not sure, we didn't see it earlier when he's normally prowling the yard." Geralt says. "Unless Regis plans on making a roast soon, the rooster is MIA." 

"Shame." Dettlaff says, looking back at the brownies. 

"He went doing what he loved:  pissing off anything bigger than him." Regis mutters, having never liked that chicken. "I am sure someone will have one by spring. For now, the ladies can take care of themselves."

"Clearly can, I've got the scratch marks to prove it." Geralt says and lifts his pant leg, showing off a bunch of angry red marks. 

"My brave mates." Dettlaff chuckles, moving back over to hover above the brownies that are making his stomach growl intensely.

"You can have one, and no. No roast from me. He was not plump enough anyway." Regis says and takes off the apron. 

Dettlaff shakes his head at that and Geralt cackles. He grabs a brownie and eats away, humming appreciatively at the taste. 

It is domestic and odd. Geralt and Regis chatting away while he himself is shirtless and disgustingly dirty. The grime irritates his senses, skin crusty and greasy, along with his hair. 

"I am going to prepare a bath." Dettlaff declares after he finishes his snack, hoping they have something planned for dinner. 

Regis jumps up at that. "No, you rest and eat. I can do that." He says and gives him a peck on the cheek as he passes to leave the kitchen.

His hand reaches up and touches the spot tenderly, and leans back against the counter in front of the brownies.

He now understands why Regis becomes so famished after his cycle, his energy is draining quickly without substance. He feels like he could devour everything in this household, maybe even more. 

It is a peculiar symptom since he rarely eats at all, but he hopes it is a sign of conception. 

Dettlaff feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand at that thought, and he takes a breath and pushes the thought to the back of his mind. He can dwell on it in the bath… 

"Do you think it worked?" Geralt asks from the end of the room. "I mean, Regis seems pretty spry and dotting today." He ponders out loud, a small smile tugging one corner of his lips. 

"Maybe. I do not know." Dettlaff answers, and he does not know. He knows the logistics, the things they need to do in order to have a baby. But knowing before he shows the side effects? The feelings and coming to terms with it? 

It is one thing to want and a whole other to have. 

"I hope so, honestly." Geralt says and his eyes shine with aspiration. "I don't know a whole lot about babies, especially vampire ones, but I'm excited." He says and rocks on his heels, his smile growing. 

Dettlaff feels his own smile forming on his face. "Me too. It is surreal to think that it is already happening." He says and his hands grab the edge of the counter, squeezing it to steady himself. 

"I bet. I mean, shit, I have no idea what it must be like for you." Geralt says and gestures to him, then to his abdomen. "It's… gotta be a little scary, daunting, as exciting as it is." 

Dettlaff thinks for a moment on that, checking his feelings and searching his emotions. 

"I do not really know what I am feeling." He answers truthfully. "I do hope this works, that we do get a… a child. Then at the same time, I feel an inkling of doubt." If they had not come this far in their relationship, to become lovers with trust and respect for one another, he would never admit this to Geralt. 

But there he is, pursing his lips and nodding. "I get that, a little." Geralt says and walks over to close the distance between them. 

There is a height difference in him and Geralt, same with him and Regis. The two of his mates are almost the same height as one another while Dettlaff has a few inches on them.

His eyes meet Geralt's, and his witcher gives him a fond smile, hands coming to rest on Dettlaff's chest, fingers tracing up his bare skin. 

They stay like that for a minute, quiet and getting lost in each other before Regis pops in again. 

The older vampire looks between the two and hums. "The bath is ready." He announces and turns around again, probably grabbing clothes for him.

Geralt nods and slips his hands down, fingers drifting over his stomach and sides before taking his larger hands in his. "Let's go big guy." He grins and pulls him away from the counter, leading him out to the bathing house. 


	7. General Anxieties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dettlaff thinks some things over while enjoying time to himself.

A month has passed without much happening. December becomes January, and with that comes a little cooler weather. The workers are still going about in their leisure months, keeping Corvo Bianco running and clean. 

For each day that passes a little more anxiety builds in Dettlaff. He still does not know if he is pregnant, and it naws at him constantly. 

He does not know if he wants to know, honestly, the worry eats him alive. 

Dettlaff has noticed some changes. His appetite has increased, for one. At first he thought he was recovering from his heat, but it persists. He should have healed by now, so he scratches that possibility off the list. 

Another thing is how tired he is, becoming fatigued far too quickly. It worries him a little, especially since his eating habits have picked up. He should be fine, he should have energy even without all the food he has been consuming.

His mates do not mind, unsurprisingly. They let him pace himself and nap far too often in his opinion. He wishes they would tell him to do more sometimes so he can stop feeling so useless and hindering, where he is trapped in his head all the time. 

Then again, he could very well be carrying a babe. 

When he is alone up in the loft, he thinks about it, wishing to know just to have an answer. If he is not, that is fine, they can try again next year. If he is, then fantastic. He pulls his shirt up and looks at his belly. Nothing has changed in that aspect. 

He wishes though, that there was something to tell him that he is pregnant besides time. 

Dettlaff gently places his hands over his lower abdomen, pressing down lightly around the area where his uterus is. He cannot feel anything out of the ordinary, not even discomfort. 

With a small sigh he settles his hands there, the warmth from them nice on his belly. He stays seated in his little nest for a while, listening to his mates roaming around the house below him, chattering about things Dettlaff is not paying attention to.

The thought of being pregnant does not necessarily frighten him, but it makes his hairs stand and his skin rise in goosebumps, as if he were afraid. 

It gives him a weird, out of body feeling at the thought that he is growing life right now. They could all very well be parents relatively soon, and Dettlaff honesty is excited. 

He cannot wait for the confirmation that he is expecting. He thinks he is, the symptoms he has are new, so it must be something. But that doubt, it will not go away until he knows. 

The thought of having his own baby brings out a little sadness along with hope. He has not seen another true higher vampire in decades, having been so lucky to find Regis, to save him, and now to have a child with him. 

Having found Regis had been such a relief. Granted, he has never actively searched for others since he would not have much to say. He does not plan on rekindling those long lost relationships with vampires who hurt humans for their own pleasure. He surprised himself by helping Regis, knowing his past, but the absolute anguish and pain that was radiating off of his puddle of matter still haunts him. If he had not helped, Regis could very well have been trapped in that icy fear. Being so close to death yet not having the relief… Dettlaff would not wish that upon anyone. 

Dettlaff's pack is still around somewhere, he is sure of it. It is only a matter of finding them, and he can if he wants to. The only issue would be if no one else has stepped up to take charge, he would have to. His natural role of leadership is a wonderful thing when he has a reason to lead, but with that comes a heavy responsibility. He does not doubt himself, the biggest problem would be getting too attached. 

Growing up around katakans, bruxa and alps was great, each species unique and amazing to learn from and play with, but when the years fly in the blink of an eye, the lives of his childhood friends flew past too. 

Now, Dettlaff is sure he would meet his childhood friend's grandchildren, which is a frightening thought. He only surrounded himself with the beings that were a bit more simple, and though they drank blood they had a reason for it. 

He realizes he does not want their little one to feel as alone as he had growing up slower than the majority of the pack. 

Dettlaff picks up on his spiraling thoughts. He has been gloomy, and it is probably due to him not feeling like his usual self.

He takes a breath, looking down at his flat stomach and rubs it gingerly before directing his train of thought elsewhere. 

Dettlaff thinks about what they will need for a baby. They grow quickly, are messy and adventurous. As exciting as it is they are not even certain he will carry it to term. He has felt Regis' energy through their bond, his buried anxiety about the worst that could happen. 

Dettlaff shakes that off too, instead trying to think about his mates. He thinks of Geralt's silly, constant gravely voice and how funny it sounds sometimes. He has never outwardly laughed at it, he is not that mean, but he has always found it odd. 

Geralt's voice, while a little off putting at first, became very pleasant after a while. The soft, deep tone he talks with is nice on Dettlaff's senses. He has a type, apparently. Men with soft tones and gentle speech patterns.

He does not know the story behind the gravely rasp and why it is so prominent, but he figures he will learn at some point.

He thinks about Regis' pursed lips thing, since he is much more apt to smile, unlike him. Dettlaff never really learned to emote like a human, since he was raised around beastial forms of vampires. Even then, he cannot grasp it. Honestly, he does not truly understand it. He gets the baseline, to help with communication around humans, but he has rarely been able to do it correctly. 

He cannot force a smile, and he has been told that his real smile does not settle well on his face. At least, that is the nicer way to put it, and he squeezes his eyes closed.

He shakes his head again, growing frustrated with himself for always dipping back into depressing things. He is so used to doing it, but it is so draining.

Dettlaff lays back even further, looking up at the angled ceiling. It stares back at him, and he blinks. 

He remembers cleaning this room up with Geralt after he first moved in, having planned on staying there so Regis could choose who to spend the night with. A peculiar arrangement, but he figured it would benefit them all in some way. It was much easier than going back and forth to the cemetery, and Dettlaff finds he likes his little loft. 

It is cozy, if not chaotic to the untrained eye. Art supplies scattered and a messy bed that has recently been stripped to make a spot on the floor. Maybe he is nesting now, he has in the past when stress overtook him.

The room is his, and it smells like his. Regis rarely comes up here anymore, not since they all got together. It is safe.

He had only stayed up here for a year or so before he and Geralt really started to socialize. He had grown bored, and with the way Regis laughed and chatted with Geralt, he figured there must be something worth talking about. 

He remembers being pleasantly surprised with Geralt's easy-going feeling and how pleasantly fluid their conversations would be. He saw a glimpse of what Regis finds in him.

He remembers their quiet conversations, where they both had to open up and accept each other more, especially after the first heat Regis shared with both of them. He smiles at the time Geralt was talking too animatedly and some food landed onto him. They had looked at each other for a minute and Geralt's face broke into a snort and so did his, which was a development in himself. Geralt picked it off of him and ate it like it was nothing, the brute. 

Dettlaff feels a little lighter now, humming and letting his eyelids relax instead of focusing on the wiggles in the wood on the ceiling. 

He is very thankful he has both Regis and Geralt, and he would not have come this far without either of them.


	8. Filthy Indulgence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt, Regis and Dettlaff have some fun while hitting all the right buttons. Geralt is living for this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohhhh boy! I've been wanting to get this chapter out since I wrote it months ago!! It's filthy, messy and pure indulgence for my craving of Dettlaff being taken care of AND fucked the way he deserves. I love him, so Regis and Geralt need to treat him! 
> 
> I will warn you, this has spit roasting and a lot of focus on vulva talk. If that's not your thing please take care of yourself, otherwise read at your own risk!
> 
> I'm posting off schedule since I'm going on a mini, covid safe vacation, and I feel great at the moment. My health isn't great, so I'll post while I can. If anyone wants to message me and ramble about the fic please do! I thrive off of this and would love to have some one who's investing in this fic and can ramble to me about things.

"And that's how I got _that_ scar." Geralt chuckles, stepping into their house with Regis trailing behind them. 

"Quite interesting. I never would have thought a bass could do that much damage." Regis quips, and Geralt can tell he's just entertaining him, his attention elsewhere. Where his attention has gone is the question.

"I guess." He says with a shrug. "Maybe I'll quiz you on this later since your cluttered head is running." He teases, and Regis scoffs but doesn't say anything else. They'd gone to grab some groceries, having left at dawn and coming back in the late afternoon.

It's a fairly decent ride into town, but walking and taking breaks to sightsee turned a mundane trip into a vibrant and fun date. 

Dettlaff had opted to stay home, something he's been doing more of lately. No matter what it is, he declines going past the river by Corvo Bianco, probably because he tires so easily now and has a vicious appetite.

Regis had mumbled something about territory instincts too, and Geralt got a kick out of that.

Setting their canvas bags down in the kitchen while Regis goes to check on Dettlaff, Geralt hears a quiet gasp coming from the older vampire. 

He turns, seeing Regis standing in the doorway to their bedroom with his head popped in. Geralt swiftly makes his way over, wanting to find out what's going on.

Regis makes room for him and he sucks in a breath. Dettlaff lays on their bed naked, face flushed beet red and breathing heavily. 

The room smells of arousal and spend. Geralt sees the mess he's made on his belly and chest, all over his hand that holds his half hard cock. There's cum all over him, and Geralt doesn't know why he's surprised. After all, he's seen the mess Regis left of Dettlaff's cunt after his cycle, and vice versa when Regis had his. 

Geralt licks his lips, and Regis steps further into the room. 

"Someone has been busy." Regis quips quietly, and Dettlaff sinks in on himself a little. 

"I am sorry, I was just-" 

"Shh, no, no need to apologize love. This is perfectly fine." Regis says and his voice is low and calm, soothing as he moves to sit on the edge of their bed. "I am glad you are taking care of your needs, dear." 

Dettlaff lets out a long breath and looks between Geralt and Regis before looking down at the mess he's made. "I cannot _help_ it… it is so intense." He says, and Geralt can see this is embarrassing for him, his hand trembling now that his stress has spiked after being found. "I could not wait any longer." He whispers, and Geralt can hear the shame in his voice. 

"Oh, darling." Regis murmurs softly, and turns to Geralt to urge him further into the room as he pets Dettlaff's sweaty hair.

Geralt closes the door behind himself and opts to sit next to Regis.

"We want you to take care of yourself, and you can ask for us whenever you need. I am so sorry we were not here to help." Regis says and reaches for Dettlaff's arm, trailing his nails up and down his skin. "I do enjoy seeing you feel good… and so does Geralt." Regis mutters, eyes raking over his bulky form.

Dettlaff takes in a shaky breath and looks up at Geralt, then Regis. 

"Do you still need us?" Regis asks, and Geralt feels his cock throb as Dettlaff nods. 

"Please," Dettlaff whispers, laying back against the pillows slowly, relaxing now that he's been reassured. 

"I would like you to show us how much you need us, love." Regis says, and Geralt worries for a second that he's pushing too far, but Dettlaff takes himself back into his enormous hand, already rock hard again.

"Such a good boy." Regis rasps, keeping a hand on his thigh as Dettlaff closes his eyes and strokes himself, his other hand gripping the bedding to ground himself. 

Geralt shifts behind Regis, and is enraptured by Dettlaff, his thighs tensing with every down stroke and his mouth parting to suck in short breaths. 

"So good for us, Dettlaff. Tell us, what are you thinking?" Regis asks, and when Dettlaff hesitates, he prompts him. "Maybe you are imagining Geralt's mouth around your cock? Hm, he is a gorgeous sight between your legs."

Dettlaff's brows twitch at that, hips jerking a little up into his hand. 

"Oh, you like that. His pretty mouth sucking you off. Or would you want him down further?" He rambles, and Geralt is starting to get too hot in his shirt. 

"You know how good Geralt's tongue feels on your cunt, and how much it pleases him to service you. He loves the taste of you, Dettlaff." He murmurs, voice becoming husky. Regis isn't wrong… 

"Geralt," Dettlaff sighs, and Geralt climbs further into the bed to get closer to Dettlaff, a hand carding through Dettlaff's soft hair. 

"I'm here." Geralt says, and Dettlaff leans up into his touch, moaning lowly as his hand becomes sloppy in its movements. 

"Tell him what you would do to him." Regis urges, his eyes wild with lust. Geralt nods, taking in a breath and thinks about what he's going to say.

"Shit, Dettlaff, I'd do so many things." He starts, unsure of himself. Regis gives him a reassuring smile and Geralt tredges on. "I'd.. I love eating you out, fuck, your thighs around my head, the way you squirm and moan." Geralt is already touching himself through his pants. 

"You have no idea how much I want to just throw you down and eat your pussy or suck your cock. Gods, I wanna right now." Geralt huffs out a breath as he watches Dettlaff orgasm with a silent cry, his mouth opening wide and his sharp teeth exposing themselves.

His abdomen ripples as his cock spurts messily all over his stomach and hand. He's shuddering as he comes down, gulping in breaths and nuzzling up into Geralt's hand.

Geralt's own cock gives a hefty throb at that, but he ignores in favor of petting Dettlaff's hair, combing his fingers through it. 

When he comes down fully he looks up at Geralt with watery eyes and pulls him into a tight hug, dirty hand and all.

Geralt bends for him, still on his knees as they embrace each other while he hears Regis shuffle about behind them. 

Dettlaff kisses him softly before sitting up fully, accepting the rag from Regis and wipes himself off of his watery mess. Geralt had noticed his cum looked super watery with barely any white as of lately, which is odd. 

He watches Regis pull Dettlaff into a heated kiss, hearing the clink of their teeth and seeing Dettlaff shudder before Regis pulls away. He can hear the very quiet whine from Dettlaff, and Geralt is a little surprised he's still needy, wiggling in his place looking uncomfortably unsatisfied.

The intense sex drive is new. He's changed noticeably since his cycle, and Geralt is positive he's pregnant. Honestly, he can't wait to see him grow with it. 

"How do you want us, love?" Regis asks, holding Dettlaff's chin between his forefinger and thumb. Geralt loves it when he gets into his dominant mood. It's not the most extreme dominant he's seen, but Yennefer would be hard to beat. 

He's very gentle but assertive, and Geralt's gut starts rolling with heat when he hears that tone and sees the way his eyes shift. 

"Mhm," Dettlaff breathes out, and Geralt is excited for what he has to say. 

"Do you want us both?" Regis asks, and Dettlaff nods. "Where do you want Geralt? Use your words, dear."

Dettlaff takes in a sharp breath, Geralt watches the backs of his shoulders rise. "I want him to fuck me." His voice is breathy, and Geralt stares into the back of his big head with fire pumping through his veins. 

"Oh, Dettlaff, you want his cock stuffing your pussy?" He asks, his breathing picking up with his chest expanding. 

Dettlaff shivers, and it's so nice to see him so pliant and submissive. Geralt wouldn't have ever guessed this is what he'd be like in bed with the way he holds himself. 

He scoots up and wraps himself around Dettlaff's back and feels his mate lean onto him. 

"And how do you want me?" Regis asks, combing a hand through his dark locks. 

Dettlaff leans up into the touch, a rumbly sound coming from him. "In my mouth." He rasps. 

Geralt groans into the back of his neck at that, already picturing it. "Fuck, that's so good Dettlaff. Gods, you're so fucking hot." Geralt murmurs against his skin, nipping his bare shoulder and placing kisses over them. 

"Please, I need-" 

"Get on your hands and knees, dear." Regis commands, leaving no room to argue. Dettlaff wiggles out of Geralt's grasp and does as he's told, moaning lowly once he's in the position. 

Geralt watches Regis guide Dettlaff towards the end of the bed, head a little too high, reaching Regis' stomach. "Tap my thigh three times and we stop, understood?" Regis asks and once both Geralt and Dettlaff nod, he puts a hand in Dettlaff's hair. 

"Geralt," Regis starts, giving him a look that got him moving to where he was needed. 

He looks down at Dettlaff's plump ass, hands reaching out and gripping them possessively. He pulls his cheeks apart and runs a finger down the cleft of his ass all the way down to his cunt. He watches with rapt attention as both holes clench, and Geralt hopes he can fuck his ass someday. 

Dettlaff drops down to his elbows, huffing out a shaky breath as Geralt looks at the two of them. Regis is opening up his pants, mouth open and sucking in sharp breaths as he grows more and more excited. 

Geralt starts unfastening his own, quick to pull them down and free himself. Dettlaff's holes throb again as his cock lands gently on his left ass cheek, and Geralt is captivated by the sight of this. 

He hears a muffled moan from Dettlaff, already having Regis's cock in his mouth. Regis locks eyes with him and winks, a sultry smirk on his face as his hips start to move. "Geralt," he starts. "Fill. Him. Up." He punctuates with his thrusts, Dettlaff rocking back against him at the force of it. 

Geralt has never been so fucking aroused in his life. 

He gently presses his thumb into Dettlaff's pussy and gasps at how loose he is, replacing that digit with his middle and forefinger. Geralt moans roughly as Dettlaff is rocked back onto his fingers, and he feels like he's in a dream.

Geralt is quick to stretch him, testing his give and grits his teeth as Dettlaff takes three fingers with ease. It's shocking, he's never been so loose without stretching before. Unless… 

"Gods Dettlaff. How long have you been at this?" Geralt laughs, his voice husky. Dettlaff answers with a gurgling moan, hands gripping Regis' thighs tightly. 

Geralt presses the tip of his cock against his clit, letting the rocking of the two rub Dettlaff's clit for him. 

Dettlaff's hips jerk, a sharp gasp coming from him. Geralt persists, one hand grabbing his hips to hold him steady. It doesn't do much, but he seems to relax a bit at the grounding touch. 

Geralt hears a growl, and realizes it's not from Regis. They pause, looking at each other. 

"I think you need to pick up the pace, Geralt." Regis huffs as Dettlaff sucks him with an enthusiasm Geralt has never seen from him. 

"Fuck, okay. I'm not gonna last." He warned, his cock red and his balls were already drawing up close from the sight alone.

"Just fuck him." Regis groans, both hands digging into Dettlaff's hair. 

Geralt nods and presses his cock into Dettlaff's cunt, moaning at how easily he goes in. 

Dettlaff sags a bit, his back arching low and his hips tilting up for Geralt. He grabs his hips, panting and sweating now, and goes with Regis' pace. 

He's spit roasted between them, and the image is ingrained in his head. He's so fucking beautiful, Geralt wishes he could paint this, keep this moment for forever. 

Regis is the first to finish, moaning and doubling over Dettlaff's head and he grips his hair. His face is red, and when he opens his eyes again they're even darker than usual. 

He pulls out and Geralt hears Dettlaff's ragged breathing and a cough before a low moan escapes him. 

Geralt wants to see his face, see how swollen and wet his lips must be. He wants to kiss him and taste Regis' cum inside his mouth. 

"Fuck, Dettlaff," Geralt moans shakily, and he cums, leaning down to wrap his arms around his waist and dig his teeth into his shoulder as he bucks his hips into him. 

Dettlaff holds them both up, stiffening with his own orgasm that's silent. He's quivering, panting as Geralt pulls away. 

As soon as Geralt's out, Dettlaff drops to his shoulders and buries his face into the bedding, a loud, full body sob leaving him. 

Geralt feels panic strike his heart at the sound, and Regis is already there, on his knees on the floor, kissing the top of Dettlaff's large head as he cries. 

"Dettlaff, love," he whispers. "Was that too much?" Regis asks, and both he and Geralt let out a breath as Dettlaff shakes his head no. 

Dettlaff lifts his head once Geralt sits next to him on the bed. His face is covered in tears and snot and drool, but he gives a little smile as he settles his head down. 

Dettlaff looks up at Geralt, his expression dazed and watery. "I don't know why I am crying." He says shakily with a sniffle, his whole body limp. 

Geralt chuckles, reaching a hand out to pet his hair. "That was a lot." Geralt murmurs, leaning down over himself so he's resting on his elbows, closer to Dettlaff's face. "Sometimes I cry after good sex, too." He shrugs. 

Regis is already moving about, cleaning up before leaving the room to grab refreshments.

"You are stunning, by the way." Geralt grins, and Dettlaff huffs a breath. 

"Thank you. You're quite handsome yourself." He murmurs as he closes his eyes, the tears having stopped. 

"You know, that's enough spank bank material to last me a few months." Geralt adds, and watches as Dettlaff's brows pinch as he mouths the words "spank bank".

Regis comes back in with a large pitcher of water and three cups, along with loaf of bread and their whole bowl of fruit, all balancing in his arms. 

He sets them down carefully, and starts pouring water into the cups. "Geralt, would you please help Dettlaff into a sitting position?" Regis asks. 

Geralt nods and with his help, Dettlaff gets up on shaky limbs and manages to get to the head of the bed. He's grumbling, clearly displeased with his body not working the way he wants it to.

"I do not like feeling so weak and famished all the time." He huffs and reaches for the cup Regis is holding, who simply dodges the hand and brings it to Dettlaff's lips himself. 

"Yes, I can tell. But you should not push yourself." Regis says as Dettlaff reluctantly sips from the wooden cup. "You would ask the same of me while I was healing." He says. 

"That is different." Dettlaff scoffs, and Geralt gets the feeling that this is an old bicker, but reversed. 

"How so?" Regis challenges, raising a brow. "Drink the rest, then tell me, please." 

Dettlaff does as he's told, brows pinching downward as his Adam's apple bobs with his swallowing. "Because I am not on the verge of death, needing your blood to survive." He huffs as he watches Regis cut up a pear with his claws. 

"You are _pregnant_ , Dettlaff." Dettlaff stiffens. "You need to take care of yourself. I understand it is hard to be so limited, but please, we know the risks and it is not worth it." Regis pleads. 

Dettlaff goes quiet and sinks in on himself. "You are right. I am sorry. I do not know what came over me." He says quietly, and accepts the piece of pear that Regis holds to his lips. 

"It is alright. I understand it is frustrating." Regis hums and gives him a genuine smile.

Soon Geralt is handed his cup and a pair of oranges. They're a bit mushy, but not inedible. 

He drinks from his cup first, finishing it and starts on the orange. The acidic scent of it grows as he peels it, and Dettlaff is repulsed. 

Dettlaff doesn't ask him to leave or stop, but he's clearly affected by it and Geralt doesn't know if he should laugh or feel bad. It's such a classic symptom of pregnancy if he's ever known one, and gets up unprompted. 

"I'll be back in a bit." Geralt says and leaves their room to eat without disturbing Dettlaff's sense of smell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's my [Discord](https://discord.gg/GkCDhtDCV8) for writing! Feel free to join!


	9. Anxious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heeey! This chapter features vomiting from morning sickness, panic attack and lots of comfort. It's a little OOC, but that's why we're here, right?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Take caution and enjoy! Next chapters won't have this much angst and won't be super relevant, at most briefly mentioned. If this isn't for you, feel free to skip to the next chapter once it's published.

It's the middle of February in Toussaint, and it miraculously snowed a little. Not even enough to coat the ground, nothing compared to the north, but enough to be noticed. The children of Corvo Bianco's workers play in the snow, making sad little snowmen compared to the ones up north.

Dettlaff is having another off day, Geralt's noticed, but it's different. It's scary. 

He was sitting in the living room when this all went down, pale and sickly looking. It was to be expected, really. He's queasy, as he has been lately, but this is the worst day of it.

From experience, Geralt had placed a cool, damp cloth onto the back of his neck and forehead. It seemed to help for a while, but he's anxious, brows pinching downward. 

It's been two months since his cycle, and Geralt sits in the kitchen while Regis assists Dettlaff to their bedroom.

He's crying, not quite sobbing as tears roll down his sharp cheeks. He's been working himself up since he vomited. He'd vomited on himself, looking so confused and terrified. Apparently, he's never done that before. 

That's phenomenal to Geralt, honestly, but then again, he's not human. He's shaking and crying because he doesn't understand it or has ever experienced it before. 

He knows it's a painful rush of lava up and out of you, but goddamn, he hasn't seen anyone react this way unless they're kids. 

It's not like him at all.

Regis has been trying everything to get him to calm down, to get him to understand that panicking will only make it worse. It's just not clicking, and the result is… less than pleasant.

This isn't the Dettlaff he knows.

If they have to suffer with this for another month or two, Geralt doesn't know if the baby will make it. He's been told numerous times that stress is really bad for their fragile pregnancies. 

It frustrates Geralt, that they're risking something so important, but then again, he's not in Dettlaff's shoes. He has no idea what's going on through his head, what he's feeling. He probably knows how he could be hurting their baby, and it's probably making his panic worse. There's not much they can do.

Finally, Geralt goes into their room. Dettlaff is a wreck and a mess, and Regis looks hopeless as Dettlaff rocks back and forth.

It shocks Geralt, but he remembers this absolute terror; the tightening of his chest, as if something was squeezing around his torso and making it impossible to breathe. 

He remembers the pure panic of being out of control of his own body, and gently but firmly places his hands on Dettlaff's bare shoulders.

"Breathe, Dettlaff. C'mon, do it for us. Just breathe." He repeats it over and over, squeezing his shoulders and rubbing his arms. He sets a slow, deep pace of his breaths, exaggerating his breathing so Dettlaff can follow it easily. 

Slowly, so painstakingly slow, Dettlaff stops rocking. His breath is hitching with every other inhale, and there's spit, tears, snot and bile dripping down his chin. 

He keeps trying to gasp for breath, to give into the consuming panic. His eyes are so far away, but Geralt can see him. 

"You're doing so well, Dettlaff." Regis says, having sat behind him at some point, rubbing his back. 

"Just breathe slowly with me, Dettlaff." Geralt instructs, remembering what he and Eskel used to go through back when they suffered from nightmares and gods knows what other terrors. "C'mon, you've got it, breathe." Geralt keeps his own breathing deep and steady, and Regis picks up on it too. 

"Just breathe deeply," he says, and Dettlaff does so. He closes his eyes and reaches out to grab Geralt by his shirt, pulling him close to him without a second thought of his strength. 

Geralt adjusts to sit in his lap and pulls him to his chest, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and cradles his head. He runs his fingers through his hair and rests his lips against the crown of his head. 

"Just keep breathing with me." Geralt whispers, and he knows Dettlaff can hear him now. 

With a deep inhale that rattles Dettlaff's chest, stiffening with it, he collapses with his exhale, arms wrapping tightly around Geralt's torso as he shakes.

"That's it, just keep breathing." He says and kisses Dettlaff's head. 

Regis sits back on his heels and he and Geralt lock eyes. Geralt sees the relief in him, but also the worry. This isn't Dettlaff, this is whatever the pregnancy is doing to him.

A panic attack. As far as Geralt can tell, this is his first one.

Eventually, all that's left is an occasional hiccup of breath and a shakiness, and yet Dettlaff doesn't let go of Geralt. 

Regis starts rubbing Dettlaff back again, but he whispers for him to stop. Regis does, pulling away sharply and looking so lost. 

"Not my back. Shoulders, please." Dettlaff says, his voice hoarse. Geralt smiles a little as Regis perks up again, rubbing his shoulders with a focused carefulness. 

Finally, after who knows how long, Dettlaff eases his grip. Geralt's thankful for his strong bladder and stands to leave for the outhouse. 

Dettlaff instantly clings to Regis though, and he's still teary-eyed. Geralt's worried he's traumatized, especially if that was his first panic attack.

Soon, he comes back to find Dettlaff half laying on Regis, his head tucked into his neck and still doing the breathing Geralt has taught him. 

"Are vampire pregnancies anything like humans?" Geralt asks, climbing into bed and sitting next to Dettlaff. 

"They mirror some things, yes, from what I've read. I am not sure where this symptom is from, but… The process is basically the same, except longer." Regis says, eyes closed with his head against the headboard. 

"Longer?" Geralt asks, even more worried now. 

"Yes. It's twelve months of gestation." Regis sighs and squeezes Dettlaff gently. 

The other vampire stays quiet.

"Damn. Why?" Geralt asks.

"Brain development. Very complex and takes a while for it to grow. It is why his energy is so low and his appetite has been increased." He says and lifts a hand to rub at his eyes. "We are halfway through the first trimester, thankfully, but I believe it is going to be rocky." He gives a sad smile at that and keeps his eyes closed.

Geralt looks down at Dettlaff, seeing his eyes are open, but unfocused. The mood is somber, as if there's a gloom hanging in the air. 

"We'll be alright." Geralt says with a nod. 

"I hope so." Regis says and pets Dettlaff's hair, opening his eyes to look at Geralt. He smiles again, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes and he looks tired. "Dettlaff is strong, he can do this. I believe in him." He says to Geralt, before looking down at Dettlaff, cupping his face with his hand.

Their eyes meet, and Geralt simply observes the two of them. 

"I believe in you, Dettlaff." Regis says softly, a fond look in his eyes. 

Geralt sees a tear roll down Dettlaff's cheek before he tucks himself back into Regis' neck, wrapping his arms tighter around him. 

Regis' smile brightens, looking back up at Geralt. 

Geralt gives him his own smile and lays next to Dettlaff, and when he doesn't protest a hand on his upper waist, Geralt slides his arm around him and lays gently against his back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's my [Discord](https://discord.gg/GkCDhtDCV8) for writing! Feel free to join!


	10. Marlene and Corvo Bianco's 100th Anniversary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Corvo Bianco's 100th Anniversary springing up and the worker's desire to celebrate, Geralt, Regis and Marlene are quick to work on cleaning and making enough food for the party, much to Dettlaff's dismay. Morning sickness and people invading his territory are both stressful.

It's March, the grey and dreary sky gives plenty of water to the lands of Toussaint before the heat of summer comes, making everything muddy and damp. 

Dettlaff can feel the cool humidity through his clothes as he walks around the house. It seeps in through the walls and sends a shiver up his spine. 

The good thing about the humidity is how it steadies him. Cold air is great for a quick clearing of one's head. 

He's still pacing as someone opens the door, and he looks over to watch both Regis and Geralt walk in with their arms full of food and cooking supplies, and a woman following behind them closely. 

They pay no mind to him, going directly into the kitchen and chattering away about something. 

After the sound of heavy objects being placed and a few bangs and cackles, Geralt and Regis are shooed out. 

"Go, you've got mud to clean!" The woman laughs, and Regis sputters. 

"I can help if you'd like-! It's a lot to work on-" 

"You can help by setting the tables or cleaning. I've got more experience in the kitchen than you'll have within a hundred years. Go!" She laughs and closes the door. 

Geralt snorts as Regis sags his shoulders. "Don't wanna do the dirty work?" Geralt asks, raising a brow. 

"No, I just thought she could use help. We're feeding the entire estate…" Regis sighs and starts moving, flashing a smile at Dettlaff before he fetches the broom. 

"And you've had her food. She's more than capable with her kitchen sorcery." Geralt chortles wiggles his fingers like he's casting a spell. "Besides, she lives for this. It's her passion." Geralt catches the broom with ease as Regis tosses it to him. "You're gonna scrub the floor, then?" He asks, raising a brow. 

"Well I'm not going to make you do it with your knee." Regis scoffs and Dettlaff watches as Geralt makes a face, looking taken aback and a little sad. 

"What's going on?" Dettlaff asks, out of the loop apparently, with both the estate and something else. He's sure he'll find out about the latter one day, but there is a woman in their home who he hasn't seen often. 

He tries to stay away from Geralt's workers as often as possible, knowing how humanity often acts around vampires. It's partly why he doesn't like to leave the house, wanting to keep away from humans as much as possible. He manages, and often mists if he truly craves an outing now. But that's becoming rare, especially with his instinct to stay inside. 

Corvo Bianco's workers also aren't fully aware of both Regis and him, but as far as he knows, B.B. has been informed. They're working on a letter, supposedly, and Toussaint is swarming with vampires, anyone is bound to meet one without knowing it around here. 

The house smells predominantly of his pack, with occasional forien scents mingling in. There's the scent of Roach every day, but usually Geralt tosses those clothes into the wash bin as soon as he can. Then the even rarer scent of humans wafts in as well, but it's usually B.B. 's scent after he and Geralt discuss the estate. 

He knows both B.B. and Marlene moved out of the house once Regis and him arrived, and since then they've hardly come inside. 

The scent of the woman is making him uneasy. It doesn't matter her intent, she's invading his space. 

"That's Marlene. We're celebrating Corvo Bianco's hundredth anniversary of its founding." Geralt explains. "I didn't know much about it and how big the celebration was planned until yesterday." He finishes and starts sweeping the floor.

"Hence why Marlene needs to borrow our kitchen. It's the biggest on the estate, and we have many people to feed." Regis sighs, finally finding the bucket and smiles at Dettlaff. "Is this alright? You and I can go to the cemetery tonight if you'd prefer."

Dettlaff swallows thickly. He doesn't want to leave, yet he doesn't want people in his space. "Where will you all be celebrating?" He asks, wanting to know if it's worth sticking around if there's any chance of no one else coming in. 

"Outside. The clouds have cleared and everyone's used to the mud by now." Geralt shrugs as he sweeps. 

Relief floods him. "Then I'll stay here." He says. "I'll be in the attic." 

(°♡°)

The celebration must be starting soon judging by how the noise outside picks up greatly. It seems all Corvo Bianco's workers and their families are here, which he wouldn't be surprised. 

He sits up in the attic, on his incomplete nest and covers his mouth and nose with a shirt. The scent of the food is too much, making his stomach roll in waves of biting hunger and dizzying nausea. It's a dangerous combo, but he knows better now than to indulge and eat more than just a piece of bread or something light. 

Dettlaff breathes in through the shirt, and contemplates whether staying here was a good idea or not. 

He hates his sensitive nose more than ever now. Almost every scent that isn't of his mates is offending and makes him queasy. It's ridiculous how intense things are now. 

Eventually the food is served and the scent lessens greatly, enough so that he can pull the shirt away from his nose without being bombarded. 

He's honestly curious about what Marlene had been making. Past the nausea that's starting to dwindle, his stomach rumbles at the scent of sweet bread. It's enough to make him venture down the stairs, into the hallway that takes up most of the downstairs, and towards the kitchen.

Marlene is in there tidying up, her hair pulled back and apron a mess. She turns to see him and startles a little before pulling herself back together. 

Marlene just gives him a look, and he can't quite place it exactly. The expression looks like a mix of wonder, fondness and familiarity, so soft it surprises Dettlaff. 

"Ginger tea is great for nausea, you know. And if you don't like ginger, there's dozens of other teas to try." Marlene says quietly as she wipes down the kitchen counter. 

He's taken aback by that. As far as he knows, no one else but his mates know of his pregnancy. He clears his throat awkwardly, chewing the inside of his cheek lightly. 

"Oh, don't be embarrassed. It happens to the best of us." Marlene scoffs playfully, turning to look at him. She stands tall, arms crossing over her small chest. "Now, either open up or help out, I'm a busy lady you know." She smiles, and it's nice. As shocking as how forward she is, it's a stark difference to how humans usually treat him upon seeing him lurking. 

He swallows, throat clicking, and he looks around the kitchen. "How did you... know?" He asks quietly, flushing a little. 

"My time as a wight has left me with its senses, and you smell sickly." She says simply. "I know about both of you and Regis, and know that it's no problem to me. If it weren't for Geralt, I'd still be trapped in that curse. On top of it all, he gave me a home." 

Dettlaff hums. It sounds like Geralt, for sure. "I'm glad he helped you. You've seemed to settle in nicely." He says, wanting to try and keep the conversation going. For some reason, he's drawn to her. He can feel how kind her soul is, and the hint of pain buried deep inside the energy emitting from her. 

"I like to think so. The workers are very nice here, very open-minded from the last time I was human." Marlene says, and her gaze is far away for a moment. "I'm sure with Master Geralt and B.B. 's contract, they'll weed out any of the close minded workers here. I'm confident that soon you'll be free to do as you please without worrying about the workers." 

Dettlaff isn't sure about that, but he'll take Marlene's word for it. His stomach is rumbling again and he clenches his fists at the pain. He's never had to deal with hunger pains like this before, it's a harsh symptom that tricks him often.

"Oh! You'd like something to munch on, I'm sure." Marlene says and looks around the kitchen. "What would you like? Something light?" She asks. 

"I," he starts, flustered again. "Bread. The sweet bread smelt- good." Dettlaff stampers, but Marlene doesn't mock him in anyway. 

"Those are good. If there isn't any left I'll make you a fresh batch, how about that?" She asks, and when he nods, she leaves to look for some outside, whipping past him with ease. 

Dettlaff just stands there and waits, not sure of what else to do. He doesn't have to wait long, thankfully, and as the door opens Dettlaff gets a glimpse of the celebration, people dancing about and a chorus of clapping. 

The door closes and the sound becomes a little muffled. Marlene unwraps the towel in her hand to reveal two buns of plain sweet bread, to his relief. 

"Thank you very much." He says softly as he's handed them, his hands dwarfing hers. 

"You're very welcome, dear. Come find me if you ever want a tea recipe, I'm sure you'd like at least one." Marlene smiles, and it's genuine. 

Dettlaff quirks his own lips, and nods. "I more than likely will." He rumbles before heading back upstairs, tearing off a piece of bread as he goes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's Marlene! I like to think she settled in well and her personality shines with a fierceness after her time as a wight. She doesn't take bs anymore now that she can appreciate being human again.

**Author's Note:**

> Here's my [Discord](https://discord.gg/GkCDhtDCV8) for writing! Feel free to join!


End file.
